Wail of the Banshee
by Blackhole1
Summary: Yes, gentlemen, another Worm Crossover featuring Taylor with a new set set of superpowers. This time, it's Worm crossed with the runny/gunny wahey that is Warframe. All characters and objects belong to their respective owners. All rights reserved. The premise? What if our favorite bullied teen found herself with a Banshee class Warframe?
1. Chapter 1-1

**Chapter 1-1**

Ever wonder if there's a little, omnipotent kid with a magnifying glass in the sky? Someone who makes it their mission to ruin your day in whatever little way possible?

I certainly did, as I walked out of Winslow High in a juice stained sweater. Yes, I had an afternoon class, but I didn't care that I was skipping it. The art project we were supposed to turn in today was ruined anyway.

It was always the same three girls: Emma, Sophia, and Madison. Always them: the queen bees of the school. Sometimes others would join in too in some twisted attempt to curry favor, but they rarely did anything worse than name-calling. I could deal with that. Compared to what the big three did almost every day, it was nothing. After all, only Emma knew my ins and outs and she wouldn't tell anyone but Sophia and Madison. They knew exactly what to say and where to poke to maximize the damage while minimizing accountability. Not that surprising when you remember that Emma used to be my best friend.

I did not take that betrayal well.

Worst of all: I couldn't do anything to make them stop. I couldn't take refuge in a group of friends: Emma was the only one I had until she turned on me and nobody wanted to be anywhere near the bullied girl for fear of becoming a victim themselves. I couldn't go to the school: the worst the teachers could do to the girls would be to suspend them for a week or two, and ONLY if I could prove that the trio was responsible. In other words, I could only give them plenty of time to figure out the perfect way to punish me for the audacity of having a spine. I couldn't even sue them: Emma's dad was a lawyer, and a rich one at that. My dad, on the other hand, worked for the failing dockworkers union. No prizes for guessing who'd win that fight in court…

I was on my own, something that no fifteen-year-old should be. That much certainly became clear three months ago when the trio from hell stuffed me in a locker and dumped the contents of the waste bin on my head before trapping me inside. I spent three hours rotting in filth before the janitor found me and let me out. You'd think that that would be enough to get the school to do something, right? They must have broken some sort of law doing that, right?

Wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Naturally, there were no cameras in the locker room. Naturally, no one but me and the bullies actually saw it happening, and no one came forward to testify on my behalf. Naturally, the school took the word of the popular, lawyered-up girls over mine, the socially awkward misfit.

There were no words that could possibly convey my anger and frustration when my dad told me that the bullies were getting away with a slap on the wrist. I had been tortured for over a year, dammit! I deserve better than this.

For once, the universe seemed to listen. I found out that I had triggered somewhere along the line. I was a parahuman. I had superpowers. Nothing that flashy, though. I wasn't like my personal heroine Alexandria, the invincible woman who could also fly, or even Armsmaster, the leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate and a man who could build almost anything he set his mind to. Still, I had powers! I was stronger, faster, more resilient, and more athletic than I had any right to be. I could hear through walls, manipulate sound with my mind, and if I really focused, I could grow a suit of armor around myself. The armor even had a sort of elegance to it: smooth curves, black and light-blue armor plates with white accents…I looked like something that could best be described as a space-ninja. My power came gift-wrapped with a costume!

Above all, though: the bullies were wrong! I, Taylor Hebert, was a parahuman! I could be a superhero. I had something that no one could take from me, not even the bullies.

And then I went back to school where it was business as usual. Parahuman or not, nothing really changed. I was still the butt of every joke and my powers did nothing to stop that. If nothing else, they made dealing with them harder. Now, I wasn't just a bullied teen, I was a bullied teen with a loaded gun duck-taped to her hand. Apparently with sound control comes super-hearing. Sounds fun on paper, right? Turns out, being able to snoop in on every conversation sucks when everyone thinks you're a loser. Enhanced strength is nice, but if I punched Emma in the nose, I'd be the bad guy. Oh, and if I used any of my powers in public. I had to worry about being dragged off by the PRT, the organization dedicated to hunting down capes who cross the line.

Even with my newfound powers, I still couldn't change anything. The universe had finally given me a card to play, only for me to find out that I could never use it without making everything exponentially worse.

It's like the universe wasn't even trying to show its intentions. Like it's trying to goad me into killing someone. One evening, when I called my armor into being, I found out that I could summon a three-pronged glaive out of thin air. On top of everything, I now had an actual lethal weapon that I could use at any time.

I hate you, universe, for doing this to me.

I hate you, Emma, Sophia, and Madison, for making my life miserable when I did nothing to deserve it.

But above all, I hate you, Taylor Hebert, for letting the bullies get to you.

I looked into my ruined bag, seeing if there's anything left to salvage. My art project was a lost cause, but I already knew that. The school books weren't doing much better. I'd probably have to buy new ones, which would eat up a big chunk of my pocket money. I could ask my dad, but then I'd have to tell him how half a gallon of fruit juice found its way into my bag. I didn't want to tell him about the bullying. He couldn't help anyway and he'd just tear himself apart looking for a solution that doesn't exist.

The worst loss, however, was the notebook I used to document my powers and my budding career as a superhero. Two-hundred pages of notes, rejected cape names, and other things, lost. It could have been worse, though. Emma could have gotten her hands on it. Sure, I was smart enough to put it in a simple cipher, but still…

I shook my head. I can't keep thinking like that. I was supposed to be a superhero. I won't let my life be dictated by three spoiled, empathically-challenged brats. I made a promise to myself: this weekend would be my debut. I was going to sneak out of the house and I wouldn't come back until I found a gang and clobbered the ever-loving crap out of them. Even if I couldn't stop my bullies, there were thousands more in the city and I had the power to deal with them.

I waited till Sunday evening before going out. Most people, including my dad, would be asleep by then, resting for the coming week.

No more excuses. No more procrastination.

Sunday evening came and I waited until dad was asleep. Easy, really, when you're able to hear the sound of his breathing from the other side of the house. With dad no longer a factor, I set about changing into my 'costume'. I sat down on the floor and _called_. Within seconds, my body started to shift and armor plates started to form. I grit my teeth and let the bone-like material flow through my skin. It hurt. God, it always hurts. When the pain subsided after a few minutes, I let out a small breath of relief. Three months of practice and the transformation still felt like I was being flayed alive. At least it was quicker now: about five minutes as opposed to more than thirty at first. Thank God for small mercies.

Pulling myself and my aching body of the floor, I looked in the mirror and found myself staring at the now-familiar mask my armor always 'decided' to use. Looking down, I noticed that the rest of my armor had formed to, as expected: a skintight plating that would have accentuated my curves, if I had any. It was strange that the armor always looked the same, though. I didn't pick it, or anything. Made me wonder if there's a story behind it…

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I focused my power and dampened the sound around myself before opening the window and climbing on the roof. My power made sneaking around hilariously simple: the dampening field I could cast around myself ensured that every step I took was completely silent, and the darker colors of my armor made me hard to spot. Still, I wanted to be careful. It just would not do if I was knocked unconscious by some lucky punk on my debut night. For now, I was sticking to the rooftops. Besides, it let me practice my new parkouring skills.

If there was one good thing about my powers, it was finding out how much I enjoyed free-running, especially in costume. I was already stronger and faster than anyone on the school track team now, but putting on the armor enhanced my abilities even further. I could run and jump for hours without getting tired. I could easily clear the distance from one rooftop to the other. Even when I couldn't, my agility and reflexes ensured that I never hurt myself falling. It was exhilarating. I felt like Catwoman. Better yet, I felt free. Here, with the wind blowing on my skin, no one could touch me. All my problems had disappeared. I could be whoever I wanted, whatever I wanted…

But I already knew what I wanted: I wanted to be a superhero.

Without another thought, I left for the Docks.

Thanks to the Endbringers and the economic recession following their wake, international trade has all but dried up. As a result, the area we locals call the Docks has been practically abandoned. That is, abandoned by people with reputable business ventures. When the corporations left, criminals and supervillains moved in, finding a ready supply of empty warehouses, offices, and desperate, laid-off workers ripe for the taking. If I wanted to find a supervillain, the Docks would be the best place to start.

I kept running through the district until I started hearing voices speaking in some language I couldn't understand. While it was still difficult for me to pick up exactly what someone was saying beyond a certain range, I could generally tell whether or not the language spoken was English at this distance. This clearly wasn't. Tip-toeing my way to the edge of the roof and looking down at the warehouse across the street, I confirmed my suspicions: a large gathering of people in a dimly-lit building, all wearing red and green. Gang colors. The Azn Bad Boys, or ABB, to be precise. One of the largest gangs in town, second only to the white supremacist Empire 88. From what I could tell, many, if not all of them, seemed to be armed too. This had 'shady' written all over it. They were planning something, that much was certain. The question was: What?

Using my powers to silence my approach, I quickly crossed the street and climbed on top of the building. I focused on the voices inside and listened in on what they were planning. Most of it I couldn't understand, ABB being a gang that recruits from the Asian minorities who seemed to prefer their native languages. Annoying. That changed, though, when another man entered the room and moved to the center of the crowd.

Suddenly, the room fell dead silent. I thought for a moment that my power had suddenly shorted out, but I could still hear breathing and the heavy footfalls of the newcomer. When the man spoke, his voice sounded deep and heavily accented. From what I could make out, it sounded like he was giving instructions, probably to hit some other gang. Though I couldn't know for sure, I was almost certain that it had to be the parahuman known as Lung. I had never met the guy, but I knew of his reputation. Apparently, he is a pyrokinetic who grew stronger the longer he fights. I didn't know the specifics, but rumor had it that he once picked a fight with the entire Brockton Bay Protectorate and won. Even if that was an exaggeration, it didn't change the fact that Lung was NOT to be trifled with. As far as hard targets go, this was as hard as they got. As much as I hated to say it, I had to leave and find an easier target. I didn't want to go home empty-handed, but I didn't want to take too big a risk on my first night out.

As I turned to leave, I couldn't help but overhear the last thing Lung had to say: "…the children, just shoot. Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"

They were going to shoot kids…

They were going to shoot KIDS?!

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

I couldn't turn my back on this.

I don't know who they were after or why, but I had to do something. Dammit, I wished I had a cell-phone to call the Protectorate with. Failing that, I should have brought some spare change so I could use a pay phone. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Of course, even if I had the presence of mind to bring those things, where would I put them? My armor doesn't have any pockets!

Goddammit.

There was only one thing I could do that would ensure that I could still look myself in the mirror tomorrow.

Fortune favors the bold, as some famous Greek once said. Or was it a Roman? Maybe I'll ask Lung after I've kicked his infanticidal ass.

I put my hands on the roof and forced waves of sound into the structure. Lights shattered, gangsters panicked, and the building shook as if it was in the middle of an earthquake. Seconds later, a five meter section of the roof gave way, dropping me in the middle of the whole gang.

Dozens of bewildered eyes stared at me, but I paid them no heed. My eyeless helmet was fixed on one target and one alone: the ornate mask belonging to Lung.

Time to go to work.


	2. Chapter 1-2

**Chapter 1-2**

Lung looked at me. He seemed more angry than surprised. No matter.

As he prepared to lunge at me, I made my move. I focused my power and _pushed_. A wave of pure force was hurled forward and knocked Lung and a couple of his flunkies of their feet.

The others started shuffling backwards, away from me.

They were afraid. Afraid of Brockton Bay's newest hero. Afraid of me.

That felt…weird, to say the least. I needed to remind myself that these were the bad guys. It was okay if they were afraid of me.

In the blink of an eye, Lung pushed himself of the ground and hurled a fireball at me. Nimbly, I dodged away and swatted the follow-up punch aside. He was strong, yes, but so was I as long as I had my armor on.

Lung followed up with a kick, but I was out of the way before it was anywhere near me. The big guy fought like an animal, wildly throwing punches and fireballs around like confetti. He roared in frustration as I danced around his blows with ease. I almost laughed. Seriously, this is the best he could do?

Then a fireball managed to land on me. A bluish barrier winked into existence and blocked it completely. Huh. My suit has energy shielding too. Awesome. I could definitely take this guy.

Lung didn't agree. He managed to grab me while I was distracted and hurled me through the wall. Time slowed and I landed on my feet, but not before a stream of fire hit me in the face. The shield took out the worst of it, but I could feel the heat. My opponent stepped out of the hole he just made. He had already grown a foot taller and scales were starting to sprout from his skin.

I needed to finish this up quickly. According to the internet, the longer he fought, the stronger he'd get. Sooner or later, I wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore.

I attacked with a low kick aimed for the knees while narrowly avoiding his fists. Scratch that, narrowly avoiding his giant metal claws. Lung howled in pain and rage until a wave of fire exploded out of him. Literally, exploded. No metaphor, no exaggeration. The dude freaking exploded, burning straight through my shield and sending me flying into a wall. I looked down at myself. Several parts of my armor were burnt, and my right shoulder-guard was still smoldering. Did I break something too? I'd have to check later. The giant stomped through the inferno he just made, seemingly uncaring about the heat. He was fire-proof too? The tattered remains of his clothing told me that he probably was.

I thought back to the unpowered gangsters. They hadn't been afraid of me. They were afraid of _him_.

Not fair.

A massive, scale covered arm flew in my direction. I narrowly managed to dodge it as it slammed into the wall. While it was stuck, I punched him as hard as I could, but all I managed was to piss him off further. Metal scales now covered every inch of his body. My fists wouldn't get through that in a million years. He freed himself and swatted me aside like a bug.

This had been a terrible idea. Lung became too strong, too fast. In minutes, he had turned into some sort of monster. What the hell was I thinking? There's a reason the Protectorate hadn't arrested him yet.

I had to run, now. I wasn't going to win this. Not when he could probably vaporize me with a direct hit. According to the wiki, he was rumored to grow wings too. If he did, there'd be nowhere to run anymore. I _pushed_ hard, knocking the giant down before silencing my steps and climbing onto the rooftops. I was still faster, quieter, and a more agile than he was. I should be able to outrun him.

My hopes were dashed when a giant ball of fire soared into the sky and landed on the rooftop next to me. He could use his super-strength to jump onto buildings. Shit. I kept running, hoping that I could escape his notice. The rapidly-closing roar told me I couldn't. I was silent, but not invisible. Shit.

Lung hurled himself forward, the rooftops creaking under his steps. In seconds, he had closed the distance and threw me of the building with a blast of fire. I slammed into the wall before falling another six feet or so into the alley below. A grunt escaped my throat. I slowly pulled myself up. Everything hurt, a dull, throbbing pain that was driving away rational thought. I was bruised and burned, and Lung was still there on the rooftop, enraged at the insect who dared to defy him. With a roar, he took a leap in my direction and I didn't have the strength to doge him.

As the ball of metal and fire drew closer, I instinctively crouched and held out my hands out to soften the impact. It was futile, but I didn't care. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die knowing that I did everything I could.

The fireball collided with me and the force of impact knocked me over. I heard something scream in pain and frustration as the flames washed over me. I willed my throat shut, but the scream didn't stop.

Wait, that wasn't my voice.

Lung had come to a stop a few feet down the alley, howling in rage. His left leg had almost been severed and he had a massive cut across his leg and chest. Where did he get that? I didn't have a knife with me.

I looked down at my hand and saw my glaive covered in blood. I'd summoned it without thinking. How did that even happen? I could have killed someone with that.

Lung somehow got back on his feet and roared. Reflexively, I lashed out with the glaive and hit him square in the shoulder. The blade sliced through his flesh like it was barely there. An instant later, I used the last of my strength to _push_ the giant back on the ground with a wave of force. Lung went still.

Oh god.

Oh god.

I killed him.

First time out on patrol and I already killed someone.

Oh god, please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please…

Lung grunted. He was still breathing. Thank god, he was still alive.

Part of me felt like laughing. Lung would have killed me without feeling a thing, and here I was, begging that he'd be okay.

Another part of me was recoiling in horror. That blade cut through him like butter. I _could_ have killed him. Just a few inches to the right, and I would have cut his head clean off. As the glaive retracted back into my hand I made a promise to myself: not again. I was never going to use that thing again, not unless my life was in danger. I was lucky that I hadn't killed him. If I wasn't so lucky the next time and people found out…That's why they build the Birdcage. An inescapable prison where they send the parahumans too dangerous to be put in a normal prison.

Now that I was thinking about it, I had gotten lucky with a lot of things tonight. If Lung's flunkies hadn't scattered to the four winds when they did, I could have been shot. I knew my armor could take a beating, but I wasn't Alexandria. The charred plates were a very good reminder of that. Moreover, if Lung had any other parahumans backing him up, this fight would have been over in seconds. Didn't he have a teleporting assassin working for him? Oni Lee, or something? If the guy wasn't here, where was he?

A stampede-like noise from beyond the alley shook me out of my thoughts and a trio of figures came charging towards me. Was it the Protectorate? When they came closer, I could make out the shapes: three monsters that looked like something straight out of hell, two of which carried a pair of people that I could only assume were capes. The largest of them, a big guy in a dark outfit and a skull mask, took one look at Lung, then at me, and chuckled. "Okay, I wasn't expecting that…"

I didn't know what to say. Should I be saying anything? I'd never seen these people on TV before. Were they part of the Protectorate? Maybe the Wards, their junior branch? Then again, what kind of hero wears a skull mask and rides a giant monster?

"When we got word that Lung was coming after us, I thought we were going to have to make a run for it. Been arguing strategy for the better part of the day, only to say 'fuck it' and meet him head-on. Hit him with the element of surprise and wing it from there. Not our usual way of doing things, but yeah."

I didn't think these guys were heroes. Dammit, I should have run already, not stand still like a deer in the headlights. I stuck to my usual routine of shutting up when opening my mouth would only get me into more trouble. When I didn't say anything, skull-mask kept talking: "Wouldn't you know, we found his flunky Lee and a couple of ABB goons, but no sign of Lung himself. Don't get me wrong, Lee's good at what he does, but the ABB isn't being run by him for a reason. Got spooked when his boss didn't show up and ran for it. I guess you're responsible for that?" He looked at Lung's unconscious body and laughed. "This guy took on whole teams of heroes and won. Seriously, how the fuck did you take him down?"

"High-powered waves of sound, kicks, and a really, really sharp knife." One of the girls answered for him. She was a blond and wore a skin-tight black and purple outfit with a domino mask. She also had this really weird look on her face, like she was trying to stare into my soul. "Don't worry, he's not going to die. His bones will probably shatter if you sneeze at him, but his regeneration should take care of that eventually. Still, it'll be a couple of days before he's back to full strength. He should be half-way to the Birdcage by then." Well, I suppose that was a relief. If she was telling the truth, that is. The girl suddenly smirked. She didn't know what I was thinking, did she? I really didn't like that stare of hers. Or the way she seemed to bite her lip.

Skull-mask suddenly started talking. "Introductions. That's Tattletale. I'm Grue. Girl over there" He turned to the only girl who wasn't in costume, unless you count plainclothes with a dollar-store Rottweiler mask as a costume. "is Bitch, or Hellhound, if you're feeling PC. And don't worry, the dogs are under her control. They won't eat you, I promise. Last and most certainly least, we have Regent."

Wait, those things were _dogs_? How did that even…

"Fuck you, Grue!" Regent said, with a chuckle. He didn't seem offended at all. His costume looked more like something out of a Renaissance fair. I couldn't help but wonder how he expected to fight in it. Maybe he wasn't a front-line fighter. He certainly didn't have the build for it. Then again, neither do I, really, so I guess that doesn't mean all that much.

"Hey, you okay? You hurt? You look a little…crispy." Grue said. He raised a hand towards me, but I reflexively turned away. I didn't know what to think. Could I trust this guy? Could I trust any of them?

"She isn't hurt, Grue. She's just shy." Tattletale said, sounding a little impatient. "It's her first big fight."

"Really? Could've fooled me, looking at Lung."

Suddenly Tattletale's head snapped around. "Dammit! Guys, we gotta scram. Protectorate will be here any minute."

Without another word, the team got back on their 'dogs'. Grue turned to me and asked: "Hey, want a ride?" I looked at the giant monsters shook my head. No way I was getting anywhere near one of those. Or their masters.

"Grue, we need to leave." Tattletale all but commanded. "Now."

"Just a minute." He nodded before turning to me. "You did us a solid, taking care of Lung, so a word of advice: get out of here. If the Protectorate see two bad guys duking it out, they aren't going to let one of them walk away." Two bad guys. Shit. He thought I was a bad guy too. That's why he'd been acting so friendly. Before I could say anything, Grue and the others disappeared into the night.

Now that I had time to think, I started putting two and two together. Those capes, they could have easily been teenagers. Grue might have been a little older, but not much. They must have been the 'children' Lung mentioned. I nearly died protecting a bunch of teenage supervillains. Worse, they now think I'm one of them.

Looking at Lung, I couldn't help but wonder if they were right.


	3. Chapter 1-3

**Chapter 1-3**

I could hear engines and sirens in the distance. They were getting closer, as far as I could tell. Guess that's the PRT coming…

I could still make a run for it. With my powers, I could easily hide on the rooftops and quietly slip away. I could even give up the whole cape thing and never call on the armor again. No one would ever know that it was me who nearly killed Lung.

But I'd be proving the bullies right if I took the coward's way out. Mom always said that you gotta own up to your mistakes. If I ran away now…I don't know what she'd think, but she'd probably be disappointed in me. Almost as disappointed as I'd be in myself.

No, I had to stay.

I'd always wondered what it would be like to meet an actual superhero face-to-face. Not that I hadn't seen them before; Dad had taken me to the occasional publicity events, after all. I'd always imagined that I'd be giddy or excited. Right now, I was just too tired and overwhelmed to make sense of what was going through my head. It didn't help that the hero in question was none other than Armsmaster himself on his enormous tinker-tech motorcycle. God, now I had to explain myself to the top superhero in town. The cape got of his motorcycle and looked at me and Lung. Unlike Grue, though, I couldn't read him very well. His suit of armor made it hard to make out his body language and his helmet covered his eyes. All I could see was the lower half of his face, but his expression looked completely neutral. I had no idea if he was going to thank me or arrest me on the spot.

"You gonna fight me?" He called out. He held his halberd, a futuristic-looking pole-arm stuffed with gadgets, defensively. When he spoke, it was strangely calm. I couldn't even hear a change in his breath rate. Then again, this is the kind of guy who started down Endbringers for a living. I probably didn't intimidate him the slightest.

"I'm not a bad guy." I replied. The words felt hollow even as I said them.

"I think Lung over there would disagree." Armsmaster said, flatly. While his expression didn't change, it still sounded like a condemnation, coming from someone like him.

"Look, that was an accident. He said he was going to shoot some kids so I tried to stop him but he tried to kill me so I hit him as hard as I could and I…and I…I'm rambling." I was also shaking like a reed. And looking like an idiot. In front of freaking Armsmaster. Goddammit.

"You're telling the truth." He said, matter-of-factly. There was no shred of doubt in his voice. Did he have a lie detector built into his suit? The cape lowered his halberd and pulled some sort of device out of his motorcycle. He folded it into a cage before placing it over Lung and welding the thing to the ground with his halberd's cutting tool. "Do you need me to take you to a hospital? You look hurt."

"I'm fine." I stammered. "The armor's tougher than it looks."

"Really?" Even with the visor, I could feel his eyes examining me. "Did you make it yourself?"

"No, I didn't. It just sort of grows on me."

"Hmm. Interesting." Interesting? What does that even mean? Is it good, bad, or… "You're a new cape, aren't you?"

"Yes…" I nodded, before nervously adding: "First night out. Haven't even picked a name yet."

"So you decide to go after Lung." I nodded in reply. His expression still hasn't changed. "And it didn't occur to you to call the PRT?"

"I don't have a phone." It sounded so sheepish when I said it. Such a stupid excuse.

Armsmaster took a breath before continuing. "If I understand this right, you went after one of the most powerful parahumans in town on your very first night as a cape without any back-up at all."

"He was going to kill kids…" I replied, weakly.

"Did you save them?" He asked.

"Yes…but they turned out to be a group of teenage supervillains…" I wasn't sure why I said that. It sounded like a stupid thing to say, but… He was the head of the Protectorate. I couldn't lie to him. "They thought I was a villain too."

"Could you have stopped them?"

Could I? I didn't even know what those guys could do. "I…I don't think so…There were four of them and they rode these huge dog-things…"

"Dogs?" Armsmaster asked. "Hellhound was one of them, wasn't she?"

"Yes, and three others…"

"Grue, Regent, and Tattletale." He answered for me. Apparently he knew more about them than I did. "They knew I was coming, didn't they?" I nodded. "Damn. Slippery bastards."

"I could have taken maybe one of them, but all four…"

"Then it's a good thing they mistook you for one." He said. For the first time, there actually seemed to be some warmth in his voice. Armsmaster shook his head. "What you did was stupid. Noble, but stupid." I shivered a little. He was right. "You could have been killed."

"I nearly was." I answered after a while.

"And that's why we have the Wards program. I think we could help you more than you realize." He stated. While it didn't _sound_ like he was trying to pressure me into anything, it was clear that he really wanted me to join.

I couldn't help but blink in surprise. "You're not going to arrest me?"

"Why would I?" I pointed to Lung, and the man shrugged in response. "It's not like you did any permanent damage. You didn't kill him and he'll regenerate. The law allows citizens to defend themselves, as long as they use reasonable force. Sure, if it had been anyone other than Lung, you would be handcuffed on the floor by now, but I know he'll be fine in a couple of days. By then he'll be stuck in the toughest cage I can get my hands on."

It's common knowledge that parahumans are an absolute nightmare for lawmakers. Regeneration or superhuman toughness makes it impossible to determine what 'aggravated assault' actually means these days. Usually, parahumans issues have to be dealt with on a case-by-case basis. Apparently, Armsmaster thought what I did was justified. Hearing that from Brockton Bay's top superhero was relieving.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "So, I'm free to go?"

"Unless recklessness has suddenly become a crime, yes. However, I'd like to make you an offer first."

"You want me to join the Wards." The Wards. The under-age branch of the Protectorate. I'd considered joining before, but I didn't want to end up going from one mess of teenage drama to the other. Not to mention all the publicity. Besides, I didn't like the idea of being bogged down by rules and oversight. Then again, looking at Lung, maybe having someone to stop me from crossing the line wasn't such a bad idea…

"Don't get me wrong, you did something incredible today, but it's obvious that you're still inexperienced. No phone, no back-up, and I'm not seeing any pockets on that suit…"

"Hey, I didn't pick it, alright! Like I said, it just grows on me. I don't get to chose what it looks like."

"Ever considered a utility belt?" He replied without missing a beat. I gritted my teeth. I should have thought of that myself. Armsmaster…he was infuriating, but he wasn't wrong. Of course he wasn't, he's probably been a hero longer than I've been alive. I even remember having underwear with his emblem printed on it. "I'm willing to bet that the biggest reason you're still alive is because you got lucky. You have a power, yes, but that doesn't mean you're invincible. Using your power to its fullest potential takes years of practice and training. We can give you that." The speech sounded a bit rehearsed, but I didn't say that out loud. Speaking has never been my strong point and he was the leader of the Protectorate. He's probably said this to god knows how many people. "Look, the truth is that solo heroes don't last long. Sooner or later, you're going to make a mistake or run into someone more powerful than yourself. When that happens, there's a good chance that you won't make it out alive. Your luck is going to run out eventually and when it does, it's over. We can help you. We can protect you from retaliation from the ABB and as a member of the Wards, you'll have the resources you need to realize your potential. To make a real difference."

I shifted a little. Rules and regulations aside, joining the Wards had its benefits and if I'd learned anything from tonight is that I can't do this superhero thing on my own. Still, joining the Wards was a lifelong commitment and came with a _lot_ of strings attached. On the other hand, I hadn't considered what the ABB would do when they found out who got their leader thrown in jail. Oni Lee was still around and he could decide to come after me. Or worse, he could come after my dad instead. "I don't know…It's a big decision…"

Armsmaster smiled. It was a nice smile. Probably designed to win the hearts of everyone seeing him in a newspaper. "Yes, it is. Not something you should make on a Sunday night." I nodded in response. "You should go home. Talk about this with your parents, if you have any. I think you know where to find me…"

I climbed back on the rooftops and ran back home. My head has swimming. I nearly died. I nearly killed a man. But I also took down one of the biggest supervillains in Brockton Bay. And Armsmaster…he may be as blunt as a roofing tile, but I think I actually earned his approval. I…I should be proud of that. No, I _was_ proud of it. I'm a goddamn bona fide superhero! Suck on that, Emma!

I ran the way back with my head held high. Nothing could sour my mood. Not even the pain that came with reabsorbing my armor, or the fact that tomorrow was a school day.


	4. Chapter 1-Interlude

**Chapter 1-Interlude**

"Well, that was anti-climactic." Alec muttered as he crashed on the couch.

Brian, chuckled besides himself. Yes, tonight had been anti-climactic. The Undersiders had been discussing strategy for hours, trying to prepare for every scenario they could think off. The ABB was the second strongest gang in the city and Lung himself was probably the most powerful parahumans in the city. More importantly, he was a killer and Brian knew that he wouldn't have held back on them. For the first time since the group had come together, the Undersiders thought that their luck had run out. That at least one of them was going to end up maimed or killed by a teleporting assassin or a raging dragon-man. The group even toyed with the idea of turning themselves in to the Protectorate. Sure, they'd go to jail and lose their reputation, but prison's better than getting murdered.

In the end, they decided to go on the offensive, take the fight to the ABB and hope for the best. Lisa, AKA Tattletale, mentioned that that option was probably going to suck the least. Still, Brian, or Grue once he put on his mask, didn't feel that confident. Even in the best-case scenario, they'd be fighting for their lives with no back-up and probably no escape. Compared to the kind of jobs the Undersiders usually do, tonight was fixing to be a recipe for disaster.

But then Oni Lee ran away and Lung ended up gutted like a fish by a literal no-name cape. Either his group had the devil's own luck or Tattletale's somehow managed to warp reality in their favor. Both seemed equally terrifying.

Alec had turned on the TV and started watching some mindless action flick. Brian joined in. It would be good to unwind for a while. Just get their minds of off things. Lisa had disappeared in her room the moment she arrived. Odd, Brian though. She, of all people, deserved to let their hair down for a little while, especially after a day like this. Everything had turned out better than they could have ever dreamed: either the ABB was taken out of the action for good or they'd be too busy trying to hunt down the cape that beat up Lung to bother with the Undersiders. Then again, Lisa might have interpreted that as a case of 'too good to be true'. Now that he thought about it, she had been acting funny ever since meeting the rookie. When the movie was finished, he'd have a chat with Lisa, see what's up.

Brian's mind started to wander in the movie's umpteenth badly-choreographed fight scene. (Seriously, why does Alec even like this crap? Doesn't he get into enough scraps already?) The new cape was…an oddity, to say the least. Few capes were powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with Lung, even if they started fighting him before he transformed. A cape that has that kind of power on their first night out? Someone like that could be an absolute terror…or an opportunity. While Brian didn't have Lisa's thinker power, he knew enough about people to know that the girl had been as surprised by her beating Lung as the rest of them were. Judging by how she talked, Brian guessed that she hadn't been recruited by any of Brockton Bay's major powers yet. If the Undersiders could get their hands on such a powerhouse…

Screw the movie, he needed to talk to Lisa about this.

Lisa herself was talking to the phone, oblivious to his presence. Of all the Undersiders, she was the only one who really used her room as an actual workplace. Tattletale was, after all, the closest thing their group had to an intelligence officer and the only one who had a direct link to their boss. It was a responsibility that she took very seriously, even if she didn't act like it at times. Basically, it meant that one of the walls was covered in post-its with facts and events written on them, with differently colored strings connecting everything in ways that made sense to Tattletale but no one else. Brian had been here several times, but even he wouldn't bother trying to get into Lisa's head. Still, he came by every now and then to look over her notes. If nothing else, it gave him a good rundown of what happened in Brockton Bay.

"I'm telling you, it's a bad idea. She beat _Lung_, dammit, and my power says that she's a magnet for trouble. If she decides to turn on us, we're gonna get our asses kicked without question."

In the middle of the wall was a note labeled _Lung's defeat_. Made sense: the defeat of one of the biggest villains in town would change everything. From it was a spider-web of possible scenarios, most centered around the idea that the ABB would fall apart. Then again, that probably was inevitable anyway. Even if Lung somehow escaped prison, he no longer had the reputation of being invincible. Not after getting his ass kicked by a little girl, even if it had been one with powers.

_E88 expanding into ABB territory. Should prevent this. Coordinate with boss if E88 turns too aggressive._ The white supremacist Empire 88 may have been the largest and strongest gang in Brockton Bay, but the ABB tended to keep them in check. With the ABB falling apart, there was little to stop them from taking over the city. That would be bad for business, for everyone involved.

"I know my power isn't perfect, but we can't just take her in. It _will_ blow up in our faces. I'm telling you: have someone watch her, just don't recruit her."

_Protectorate might intervene; attack while others are stretched thin. Can defeat smaller gangs but not E88 with current numbers. May ask for help: New Wave, other cities, new capes?_ The Protectorate has been fighting a losing battle against the various gangs of the city for decades now. With Lung gone and everyone else too busy helping themselves to ABB territory? No way they'd stay out of the fight. If they play their cards right, they might end up taking back the Docks.

_New factions? Faultline? Boxheads? Travellers? Unknowns. Could be here for Boss, could be here for themselves. Need more data. _In a cape fight, knowing what the other guy can do is just as important as the fight itself. Being blindsided is probably the quickest way to lose one. Newcomers were rarely a welcome sight in the supervillain business.

Another note really surprised him: _Merchants seen with tinker-made rifles. Trainwreck? Squealer? New tinker? Imports? Need more data._ Tinker-made technology was often decades or even centuries ahead of anything produced by normals. It tended to be one hell of a force-multiplier. While the Merchants were little more than bottom-feeders and drug addicts, Brian didn't like the idea of them getting any stronger. Merchants with laser guns? While they'd never be able to defeat Empire 88 on their own, they were still one of the larger gangs in town and the Undersiders couldn't afford to ignore them. Especially if they found someone crazy enough to make them even more powerful.

"Thank you. I'll let the others know." Lisa said as she turned off her phone. "Oh, hi, Brian. Didn't know you were there. Been listening in?"

"I overheard. Thinking about recruiting the new girl?"

"Boss did. I had to talk him out of it." The way Lisa kept biting her lip…she was hiding something.

"You know that's not your choice to make, right? We're a team, we do this together."

"You'll thank me later. Trust me."

Brian hated it when she said that. Yes, he trusted Tattletale, but that didn't make him feel much better. "Then give me a reason to. Spit it out. Why are you so scared of that girl?"

"You mean apart from the fact that she singlehandedly beat a guy who picked a fight with Leviathan and _won_? Do you really need more?"

"Yes, I do."

Lisa gave him a dirty look, but answered anyway. "You're not letting go, aren't you? Great. Cliffnotes version? My power's off its meds."

Brian blinked for a second before muttering: "What."

"You know my power tells me things, right."

"Yes, and it's saved our asses more times than I can count."

"Cute. Now, what if I told you my power _shat fucking bricks_ when I saw that girl."

"I'd have to ask you why."

Lisa sighed. "That girl…when I tried to use my power on her, it was like I stared at a hole in the universe. I…I don't know what she's doing, how she does it, or if she's even aware she's doing it in the first place. I don't even know if it's a power like what we have or if it's something else entirely or…"

"Lisa, you're rambling. And scaring the crap out of me." Near-perfect intel thanks to Tattletale is the one advantage the Undersiders always had over the other groups. If there's someone out there who could somehow mess with her abilities, it would put them at a huge disadvantage.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but when I saw that girl, my power was practically screaming for me to get away from her as fast as possible. That's a big problem, especially if we're going to recruit her."

Brian started putting two and two together in his mind. "You can't vet her with your power."

"Exactly. I can't trust my power with her. What if she's a mole, and I can't see it coming? What if my power convinces me she's going to stab us in the back, even when she doesn't want to? What if…there're too many what ifs. We're walking a dangerous line. I need information and my power can't give it to me. I could read Lung, I could tell the Protectorate was coming, but that girl is a blind spot and I don't know why."

"Well, I guess that explains why you've been antsy all night. I suppose it's better not to recruit her, then. Last thing we need is somebody screwing with our heads at the worst possible time."

"My head." Lisa corrected.

"Hmm?"

"My head. You guys weren't affected. Just me, and only when I'm trying to figure out who she is or where she comes from."

"Right. You think she'll be trouble?"

"I'm counting on it. Girl that strong...someone's gonna pick her up by the end of the week."

"Your power telling you that?"

"Experience. I'm not helpless without my power, you know. I still have a working brain."

"Right." Brian couldn't help but frown. She was way too calm for his liking. "It's okay to have a freak-out. That girl just hard-countered your power."

"It's gonna happen to all of us, eventually. We all run into that one person we can't beat sooner or later. Bursting into tears isn't gonna help." Lisa yawned. It had been a long day for everyone. "Besides, it's only one person. It's not like there's more of her running around…"

"Don't tempt fate." Brian said. "But we can worry about that later."

"Yeah…later."


	5. Chapter 2-1

**Chapter 2-1**

I woke up to the beeping of the alarm clock. Worst noise ever. Clumsily, I tried to get it to stop, only to knock the damn thing of my nightstand. Dammit. Groggily, I pushed myself out of bed, landed on the floor, grabbed the damn thing, and turned it off. Silence. Finally.

It was 6:30. Dad was already in the shower. Right, a weekday. Great. Time to get up.

Slowly, my brain started working again. Strange, I normally didn't need the alarm. My dad and I always stuck by our routines; the sound of his shower should be enough to wake me up. Then I remembered that I didn't come home until well after midnight. I've only been sleeping for three or four hours. That probably wasn't very good.

I picked myself up from the floor and looked in a mirror. There were bruises all along my chest and shoulders. Oh right, I got into a fight with a pyrokinetic dragon-man. Apparently the armor didn't stop Lung's attacks completely. How could I've forgotten. At least I didn't see any burns. Bruises, I could explain away. Burns… not so much. I shook my head, put on a long-sleeved shirt and got on with my routine.

My introduction to the worst part of superheroing: the double-life. There're only so many hours in a day, after all. Guess that means having to give up some sleep if I wanted to do the right thing. That, and having to hide inconvenient things like bruises. When I got downstairs, dad was already making breakfast. The smell of bacon invigorated me, if only a little.

"Morning, kiddo."

"Hey, dad."

"You okay? You sound a little glum."

On reflection, I probably did. "Tired. Didn't sleep well."

"You know, you don't have to go on your morning runs…"

I sighed. My dad had always been over-protective of me, and it only got worse after mom died. As annoying as it was, though, he meant well. I guess I should appreciate that. Dad was probably the only person on the planet who actually gave a damn about me. If I got hurt, really hurt, it'd kill him. "You know I do, dad. If I don't…"

"…it'll be harder to get up tomorrow. I know. You got your…"

"Pepper spray, yes. Don't worry, dad, I'll stay safe." I've got superpowers, after all. Not that he knew that.

We ate breakfast in silence, like we usually did. It wasn't broken until Dad looked up and said: "I know you went out last night." My brain suddenly kicked into overdrive and my heart rate tripled.

"I couldn't sleep." I said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "I had to take a run, clear my head." It hurt, lying to my dad. Still, it had to be done. How was I supposed to tell him that I almost died last night? That I had superpowers and was probably going to go out again?

"Christ, Taylor! You know it's dangerous to go out in the middle of the night."

"I had my pepper spray." Among other things.

"And if you got blindsided or ambushed or…" Dad winced, trying to control his anger. The man had a legendary temper, but I knew he'd do anything to make sure that he'd never lose it in front of me. That said, he deserved to be angry. I _did_ nearly die. "What's going on? I can't help you if you don't let me."

"School." I said. "Friends, or lack thereof."

"It's not better?"

I didn't answer. If the bullying had stopped, I wouldn't be in this position. Not that I would ever say so out loud. I think the only thing that was hurting him more than me being bullied was the fact that he could do nothing about it. I understood the feeling, better than he probably realized. Even with my powers, even with me going up and beating _Lung_, it wouldn't stop. Nothing short of moving to another school or getting the bullies expelled ever would. The latter would never happen, not with the idiots that run my school, and the former wasn't looking much better. The only school close enough was Arcadia High, but that school had a waiting list of over a year. Then again, the Wards supposedly went to that school. If I joined up with them now that I could…

It was worth thinking about, if nothing else.

"No more going out in the middle of the night, okay?" Dad suddenly said. "I'll lock the windows or put a bell on the door if I have to."

He probably would, too. Not that it'd do much, given my powerset. "I'm sorry, dad." I said. My apology left a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt bad for making him worry, yes, but I knew that I'd do it again sooner rather than later. It sucks, having to lie to my father. I finished my breakfast and put my plate in the dishwasher.

"Going on your run?"

"Yeah." I said, absentmindedly, before adding: "I'll stay safe, I promise."

My father didn't respond. I didn't know what to make of that.

As I started running, my thoughts kept coming back to my father. He knew something was up. He had to. My father isn't a stupid man. He couldn't have heard me leave, thanks to my power, which probably meant that he had entered my room to check up on me when I was gone. On the one hand, the realization felt like a massive invasion of my privacy. On the other, I _had_ left the house in the middle of the night without telling him about it. Were things getting so bad that I couldn't hide it from him anymore?

My usual strategy for dealing with the bullies is to avoid it as much as possible. Sitting away from them in class and hiding in the bathroom during lunch hours let me avoid the worst of it. Failing that, I simply soldiered on. I couldn't do anything back without making things worse for myself, so I just coped with it and hoped they'd get bored and go away.

Still, some dark part of my mind kept reminding me that it wasn't working. The teachers looked the other way, my hiding places would inevitably be discovered, and the trio were too easily amused to get bored with me. Now my dad knew as well. Had to, or he wouldn't have bothered asking about it. Funny how that was even worse than the bullying itself. I have a thick skin and a high tolerance for pain, but the thought of my dad being hurt because of me was just too much. I'd have to learn to hide it better.

As I got to Winslow, a knot formed in my stomach. I had skipped the afternoon classes on Friday and failed to turn in a major art project. My grade would suffer, but that wasn't my biggest concern. The humiliation of being called out in class by the principal and the attention that would draw to myself was worse. Dammit. School hadn't even begun yet and I was already feeling like crap. What a wonderful start of the day.

Computer class was first, which I suppose was alright. For one, none of the big three attended it, so I was usually safe from any pranks. Some of their lackeys did, but they generally wouldn't bother harassing me if the trio weren't around to egg them on or appreciate it. Besides, I was in the advanced class, and most of them weren't. Frankly, it was one of the few classes I actually did well in. Then again, it wasn't that hard. The teacher, Mrs. Knott, was one of the few who actually seemed to be reasonably good at their job, even if she did look a bit like a male transvestite. She usually gave the advanced class an assignment and focused on the other students. I usually finished it in about thirty minutes and spent the rest of the time surfing the internet.

Today's assignment was little different: make a simple calculator in Visual Basic. We already went over basic coding last week, so this assignment was just busywork disguised as practice. I finished it in about fifteen minutes, saved it in the 'completed assignments' folder, and went onto Parahumans Online, the go-to website for capes and everything cape-related. Wondering if I had made an impact with last night's escapades, I went to the Brockton Bay subpage and searched for anything related to 'Lung'. The result: the message-boards were on fire.

No pun intended.

By now, Lung's defeat had conjured up a storm of ranting and speculation. Some people, obviously ABB members, were screaming about taking revenge. I smiled when I read those. Most, if not all of them weren't capes, so they probably wouldn't have much of a chance against me in a fight. Other posters wondered if the weakening of the ABB would spark a city-wide gang war. That made me cringe a little. When I went after Lung, I did it to save the lives of the 'children' he was about to kill. I never considered the big picture. What would happen now that Lung was in custody? Better not think about that. I did good, taking out Lung. Armsmaster himself said as much. If a gang war was on the horizon, he and the other heroes would put a stop to it.

Speaking of Armsmaster, the PRT had released a statement earlier saying that he apprehended Lung after the supervillain had been defeated by an unknown cape. I had to suppress a squeal while reading through several pages of people speculating who the unknown might be. Some said that I was a freelance hero. Others claimed that I worked for the Empire 88. Fighting the ear-to-ear grin was almost impossible. First night out, and people were already talking about me like I was some sort of living legend.

What did kind of surprised me was that Armsmaster hadn't taken the credit for himself. Beating someone like Lung would have been a hell of a boost to his career and it wasn't like I was in any position to tell the world he was lying. But then again, I had sort of butchered the guy. His bosses in the PRT would probably have disapproved of excessive violence.

I shook my head. Was I really this cynical? To think that Armsmaster would do something as petty as stealing credit for a take-down? Geez, what was I thinking? He was a hero, for God's sake. He may have been a little more blunt than I expected, but he still seemed like a stand-up kind of guy. Besides, thinking that way would only sour my mood. I just changed Brockton Bay for the better. I did something I could be proud off. Today would be a good day. Nothing could get me of the high I was riding now.

Nope.

Nothing at all.


	6. Chapter 2-2

**Chapter 2-2**

History class.

Well, I guess there _was_ something that could sour my mood. Thank you, universe. Not that I hated history class itself, it was just that the bullies ruined it like everything else. Most of that was thanks to Mr. Glady. He was a nice guy, ironically, but he was also the kind of teacher that wanted to be the student's friend. This usually meant that he let us work in groups most of the time. I suppose that's great if you've got a lot of friends of your own: plenty of time to socialize. However, I didn't have any friends, so I ended up being grouped with other 'losers' or one of the trio's cronies who would use the opportunity to make my life miserable for the general amusement of all. On top of that, Mr. Glady was completely oblivious to the bullying, even if it happened right in front of him. Have I mentioned how much I hated history class?

At least I'd done my homework. Spent all weekend working on a detailed essay on how superheroes affected our lives and the world around us. I was actually quite proud of it, which doesn't happen often with a piece of homework. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was a cape now. This sort of thing appealed to me more than it used to. At any rate, I was sure that I would get a good grade for it. Given how my grades have been in the gutter since I started high school, it could have been a good way of salvaging at least one of them. Or it would have been, if one of the trio's little helpers hadn't stolen it from under my nose, gave it to Emma, who then presented my work as if it were her own. Fuck her, fuck her triumphant smirk, and fuck Mr. Glady for applauding her for something _I did_.

Then, just when the day couldn't get any worse, the bell rang and Mr. Glady called me over. Great, now he's going to chew me out for not doing my homework too. I took a deep breath and walked to his desk. Maybe I could tell him that it had been stolen? Nah, it wouldn't change anything. I had no proof and not enough emotional reserves left to argue with him. God knows, I needed them just to get to the day without melting the ear-drums of everyone in the school.

Mr. Glady looked at me with an unusually stern look on his face. "Taylor, I'm not stupid."

"Umm, okay?" I asked, not sure how to respond.

"I _do _know what's going on in my classroom. I know there are students in my class giving you a hard time."

"Sure."

"This has been going on for a very long time, hasn't it? I know about the incident at the start of the year, with the locker. All of your teacher had a meeting about that. I'm also not stupid enough to think that that was the last of it."

I didn't know what to feel. It was nice that someone, _anyone_, had finally read the writing on the wall. On the other hand, I didn't want the attention. It would just give the bullies another excuse to 'teach me my place'. That, and every moment I spent here was one I couldn't use to look for another hiding place. My heart sank; I had forgotten to look for another one now that the bathrooms had been discovered. Where would I go now?

"I asked you after someone smeared glue on your seat a few weeks ago." Mr. Glady continued. "I'm going to ask you again: will you come with me to the principal's office?"

I wanted to. God help me, I wanted to. Even just being heard out might make me feel better. "What would happen?"

"We'll have a discussion. You can tell us which one of your classmates have been bullying you and we'll talk to them."

"But they wouldn't get expelled?"

"If there's enough proof, they'll be suspended for a few days, unless they've done something really bad. If they keep up the bullying, expulsion will be considered."

In other words, the school would do exactly what it had been doing for the past two years: nothing of value. Just a slap on the wrist to convince themselves they're actually doing something. "Which basically means that they'll get a few days off to prepare the next horrible prank, and only if I can prove that they're the ones making my life a living hell."

"You have to start somewhere, Taylor."

I shook my head. "Unless the bullies get expelled or I get a transfer, all I'll end up doing is paying for the time lost with interest." When the teacher didn't answer, I turned around and left.

Right into the hands of Sophia, Emma, Madison, and a posse of their friends.

I tried to walk past them, but they surrounded me, slowly pushing me into a corner. Not hard enough to attract attention, of course. Just blocking the way with their bodies so that I couldn't get past them without pushing them away. Then, they started talking.

"Nobody likes her, nobody wants her here."

"Such a loser, she didn't even turn in the major art project on Friday."

"Why's she even coming to school if she's not going to try?"

It's the same thing they've been doing for months. They're not actually saying hurtful things to my face, that would be bullying. No, they're just saying hurtful things to each other, which is nothing more than gossip. That I happen to be so close that I would have heard them perfectly even without super-hearing is my own problem. They bent the rules in a way that only high schoolers could think of.

"Ugliest girl in our grade."

At this point, I wasn't even wasting the energy trying to tell who said what. It wouldn't matter anyway. The girls had me in a corner and were just slugging random insults at me like I was some verbal scratching pole. The point wasn't being smart, or even to say something that really hit the mark. They just wanted to hammer it in. Just a show of superiority. To wail at me until I broke down and started crying. The girls talked fast, one after another, building up a sort of momentum that made it impossible to interrupt without being talked over. If only I could interrupt one of them somehow, say something to throw them off their rhythm…

"She never talks to anybody. Maybe she knows she sounds like a retard and keeps her mouth shut."

"Nah, she's not that smart."

Behind me, I could see Mr. Glady leave his classroom. The girls didn't let up, even though a teacher was standing right next to them.

"If I were her, I'd kill myself."

Mr. Glady looked me in the eye.

"So glad we don't have gym with her. Can you imagine seeing her in the locker room? Gag me with a spoon."

I looked back at him. You wanted proof? Here it was. All he needed to do is say something. Come forward, warn the principal, and all this would go away. He just needed to do his job as a teacher. The man knew what was going on. He knew that I needed help, _real_ help.

Instead, he turned around and walked away.

There were no words.

"What's the matter, Taylor? You look upset." Emma spoke up for the first time.

I wanted to punch her. If we'd all been guys, it probably would have worked too. I'd get my ass kicked, sure, but the school couldn't have ignored it. Couldn't just walk away…

"So upset you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?"

I…

My mind shut down as I processed the words. After my mother died in a car accident, I was in a rough shape. Dad pretty much sunk into a depression which pretty much left me on my own. I couldn't deal with it and wept for a week. I told Emma this a month later. I admitted it to her because I thought she was a real friend. Like a sister I never had. Someone who would never in the whole wide world betray me.

Now, it's just another memory she turned against me. I loved my mother and it felt like a piece of my soul had been torn out when she died. It was one of those memories that I forcibly shut out, even on a good day. It just hurts too much to think about it.

Her grin widened. She must have seen the pained look on my face. Emma hit a nerve and she knew it. Goddammit, she knew exactly which button to press.

"Oh, look," one of the girls shouted, excitedly, "she's crying!"

She was right too. A tear wormed its way down my face. Followed by another. And another. I couldn't stop them. Dammit, why couldn't I stop them?

I needed to get out of here. I needed to go anywhere but here. I pushed my way past the girls and took three steps before my bag was yanked of my shoulder. Sophia, of course, proudly standing over my bag like a huntress over her prey. I pulled the bag from under her feet and bolted. I didn't care where I was going. I didn't care the girls were still watching, jeering, and laughing at me. I didn't even care about my stuff being damaged or me skipping another afternoon. I just needed to go.

I ran around the docks aimlessly for at least an hour before collapsing on a bench and crying like a baby. Some people passed by, but they ignored the weeping teenage girl who should probably be in school right about now. Probably for the best. I just…I just needed to be alone. It took nearly half an hour before I got a hold of myself again. Part of me wanted to go back, armored up, glaive drawn. Cut the girls to pieces and disappear. There're plenty of warehouses around that I could disappear into for a few minutes while I changed. No one would have to know it was me. I'd be doing the universe a favor too…

Except mom would roll over in her grave. Dad would never speak with me again. Armsmaster…he let me go yesterday because he thought I was a hero. If I slaughtered the bullies and he found out what I did…

I laughed through my tears. Look at me, giving a damn about the opinion of a guy I barely met. How fucked up has my life become?

Taking slow, deep breaths, I forcibly calmed myself down. My muscles were screaming. The last time I pushed myself this far had been a few days after I left the hospital following the locker incident. Dad came home, having spoken with the school administration. Since the school supposedly didn't know who had stuffed me in the locker, they had given my dad a pile of 'shut-up money' and sent him on his way. He said they'd investigate, but I already knew how that would turn out. Back then, I was a mess: still in shock; trying and failing to process all the input my freshly changed senses were giving me. I went on a walk later that night, trying to clear my head. When it didn't work, I ran faster. I kept pushing myself until I was too tired to take another step. Without thinking, I ended up in some abandoned warehouse, knocked over a few crates and collapsed.

The next thing I remembered was my skin being ripped apart. For over thirty minutes, I trashed and screamed as my body remade itself. Then, the pain vanished as suddenly as it began. That had been the first time the armor had come out, and the only time it had happened without me being totally calm and willingly calling for it.

It took me three hours of begging, praying, and panicking before I calmed down enough to make it go away. It took another week for me to really grasp what had happened to me. Needless to say, I didn't want it to happen again without my consent. Transforming hurts a lot.

I looked at my watch. It was quarter past two. It would still be a couple of hours before Dad came home. What should I do with the rest of the afternoon? Better yet, what was I supposed to do with the rest of the week? Or the year? The bullies weren't going to stop, the school was no help either, and my dad didn't have the connections to help. Then again, I _did_ have a way out. I could take Armsmaster's offer. I had powers and I did manage beat Lung on my own. That should be more than enough to get a place in the Wards. I could…I could start over. The Wards would send me to Arcadia High, away from the bullies, and I would be doing something that I could be proud off.

God help me, the Wards really was my best, no, the only way out. What else could I do? Things weren't going to get better on their own. As the saying goes, it's the definition of insanity to do the same thing over and over again and expect a different result. Way things were going, it'd only a matter of time before I snap and gutted someone. I made a promise to myself. I didn't want to break it.

But if I was going to join the Wards, I'd have to tell my dad.

Fuck.


	7. Chapter 2-3

**Chapter 2-3**

Convincing my father to let me join the Wards wouldn't be easy. My dad was about as overprotective as a father could be and it was common knowledge that the Wards put themselves in danger a lot. Then again, all superheroes did. It kind of comes with the territory. Inevitably, my father's first thought would be to say no. Since I'd need his permission to join, I'd have to find a way to get past his need to constantly protect me. I needed information.

I started looking up the Wards in the public library. What I found were pages of smiling teenagers in colorful costumes looking sickeningly happy. It reminded me a little too much of some of the pictures my dad showed me when I was about to enroll in Winslow High. As I learned the hard way, looks can be very deceiving. I shook the thought out of my head. It made sense that an organization would try to sell itself, after all. I'm not stupid enough to think that life in the Wards will be all sunshine and puppies, but it can't possibly be worse than going back to Winslow.

From what I was reading so far, that seemed to be the case. I read several 'a day in the life of' articles, including an old one from Brockton Bay's very own Triumph before he graduated to the Protectorate, and they made the superheroes sound…almost normal. They went to school, did homework, practiced using their powers, and occasionally stopped a crime. The story seemed to especially hammer on about how combat was strictly voluntary and how rarely anyone ended up in a hospital. It was nice, clean, and as kid-friendly as it could be. Showing this to my dad would be a good start.

One forum mentioned that the PRT could be a little overbearing, but that didn't bother me that much. After months of having to deal with apathetic teachers and nearly killing someone because I didn't know my own strength, having someone watching my back might actually be a good thing. If nothing else, they'd be an excellent bully repellant. Not that bullying would happen much if I ended up in a good school like Arcadia. Arcadia had a reputation to keep.

That said, I knew the internet would give me an unrealistically rosy picture of what life was like in the Wards. Sure, Wards aren't required to join the Protectorate when they turn eighteen, but they almost always did. Sure, Wards don't have to join Endbringer fights, but it happened anyway. The more I read, the more I found myself wondering what they're hiding. There was no way that the Wards were all fun and games. What weren't they telling me?

Great, now _I_ was having second thoughts. How would I convince my dad if I couldn't even convince myself?

I sighed. The funny thing about paranoia is that you'll always find 'proof' that someone's lying to you if you look hard enough. I have been lied to and disappointed by so many people that I automatically assumed everyone was out to get me. Right now, I probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash if I found out that one of my bullies had been a Ward all along. It was probably stupid, but the doubts still niggled at me. As much as I wanted to think that the system was perfect, or at least functional, I've seen too much evidence in the past two years that it wasn't. That left the million-dollar question: Was I right to be paranoid? The internet kept saying how great the Wards were but I'm not stupid enough to believe everything the web tells me. I've never actually met any of the Wards myself outside of publicity events and had no idea what they were really like. What if they turned out to be a bunch of jackasses with a god complex? What if the PRT is run by a maniac who thinks all parahumans are villains waiting to happen? How badly could I screw myself over if I go down this path?

Memories of Winslow came back. Months of near daily pranks. The locker. A thousand other small humiliations. Whatever the Wards were like, it'd still be better than what I already had. There's no way in hell the PRT would let a parahuman with Emma's, Madison's, or Sophia's mindset run around unchecked. Besides, for all I knew, the Brockton Bay Wards could turn out to be really nice people. I might have friends again. Real friends. People who care about me that aren't named 'Dad'. It was hard to have hope again after everything I'd been through, but if I was wrong...

I squashed that train of thought. Nothing would change if I kept convincing myself it would all end in tears anyway. God help me, I needed things to change. I spent another thirty minutes or so in the library taking notes before heading home. As I got closer, a pit of dread opened up in my stomach. Dad and I didn't talk much, especially about the important things. Even with all the information at my disposal and my notes backing me up, there was always the chance that he would say no. If he did, what would I do? I couldn't join the Wards without his permission and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I went out at night against his will. On the other hand, I couldn't soldier on like this forever.

I got home at about 5:30 and went to my room, still pondering how I was going to break it to him. Right now, he didn't even know that I had triggered, let alone that I wanted to join the Wards. Should I just tell him? He probably wouldn't believe me without giving him a demonstration and my flashier powers don't work without my suit. Should I transform right in front of him? If it looked as painful as it felt, I might just end up traumatizing him. Maybe I should just put on my armor and hope for the best. Then again, I've had a lot of experiences with plans that involved the phrase 'hope for the best'…

Six o'clock. Dad would be home soon. I had to make a decision.

Fuck it. Fortune favors the bold.

I took off my clothes, _called_, and gritted my teeth as the plates tore through my skin. Yeah, Dad would kill himself if he ever saw me doing this. Funnily enough, the damage from yesterday had almost completely disappeared. Well, that's convenient. I took a deep breath, calmed myself, and waited.

"Taylor! I'm home!"

Time to face the music. I hesitated as I got to the door. I could still turn back. Banish the armor and pretend nothing's wrong. But if I did that, I'd never be able to muster the courage to talk about this again. Still, the prospect of outing myself to Dad terrified me. Funny how I threw myself at Lung without a second thought but that I'm too scared to talk to my own father.

I opened the door and walked down the stairs. Dad was already cooking when he saw me.

"Dad." I said softly. "We need to talk."

His eyes widened. "Taylor?" I didn't know what to make of his expression. Was it shock? Fear? Horror? "Is that…you're a cape…"

I nodded. "Yes."

For a minute, the two of us just stood there. I don't think either of us really knew what to say, so I did what I normally do: I kept my mouth shut. "Since when?" Dad suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"Couple of months. I think I triggered in the locker."

Dad just stared at me with a sad look on his face. "I…I don't know what to say." I haven't seen my father look this lost. Not since Mom died. "So…what's your power, then?"

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. He didn't scream or burst into tears. I guess that's a good sign. "I can control sound. I'm stronger and faster than a normal." Dad slowly set himself down at the table. It felt nice, just talking about my powers like it was a homework assignment. Made me feel a little more human. "I have super-hearing too. The neighbors are arguing. Mr. Graves brought the wrong type of potatoes again."

Dad snickered. "Well, they all taste the same anyway." He sighed. "You're had…this for months. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

I winched. How was I going to put this diplomatically? "I needed to know what I could do. Figure out what my options are."

"And by 'figuring out', you meant 'sneak out the house in the middle of the night and play superhero', didn't you?" I twitched. How the hell did he know that? "I'm your father, Taylor. I can tell when something's up with my daughter. I'm just glad it's not drugs."

The two of us sat in silence for a while. "Thank you. For not freaking out, I mean."

"Freaking out? Oh, I'll probably freak out in a few hours when the shock wears off. Right now…right now, I don't know what to think. When I said that I knew something was up, you being a parahuman wasn't what I was expecting." Dad shook his head. He looked very tired. "So, what happens now?"

I took a deep breath. Time for bomb-shell number two. "I was thinking of joining the Wards…"

Suddenly, life returned to my father's eyes. He looked up so fast I thought he just gave himself a whiplash. "No. Absolutely not. I won't have you running around the street in the middle of the night. You could get hurt, or worse." He grabbed my hands and looked me straight in the eye. "I love you, Taylor. You're all I have left. I can't lose you to some punk with a gun." It was sweet, how much he cared about me. I almost felt selfish just for considering going to the Wards. Still, I _needed_ this, more than I could ever explain.

"Dad, I looked them up in the library. Wards aren't child-soldiers. They're never put in serious danger. The worst I'd be fighting would be C-rate villains and the occasional mugger."

"And if one of those muggers has a gun?"

"My armor's a lot tougher than it looks and I have a shield that could take several of Lung's fireballs before it went down." I reassured him, before my brain caught up with me and I realized what I'd just said.

Dad hadn't missed it either. I recoiled when I saw his face go red. "Lung…YOU FOUGHT LUNG! YOU…" Dad visibly tried to calm himself. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't…Christ, Taylor, what were you thinking…"

"He said he was going to kill kids…" I said, weakly. "I had to stop him."

He laughed, mirthlessly. "You…you're just like your mother. People could yell at her for hours and she wouldn't bat an eyelash, but God have mercy on your soul if you touch a child when she's around… You won, didn't you?" I nodded. "Heard about it at work. I don't know if I should be proud of you or ground you for the rest of your life." In a way, hearing that was even better than getting Armsmaster's approval.

"Dad, if I join the Wards, I'll get training, equipment, back-up…I could be a real superhero."

"And if I said no, you'd go out on your own." I didn't want to admit it, but I probably would. Dad knew me too well, I guess.

"If you don't want me to do this, I'll stop. I'll never use my powers again."

"But you'd resent me for it."

I didn't answer him. He was probably right. I didn't want to say it out loud, but he was probably right.

"I _need_ this, Dad." I pleaded.

"Why?" Dad grabbed my hands. "I know you're unhappy at school, but to go this far… There's got to be a better way to feel happy than to take a swing at the biggest supervillain in town." My father wasn't stupid. We both knew that if it weren't for the bullies, I'd never have taken the risk of fighting Lung.

"I need…I need to prove to prove to myself that I'm not just a victim. That I'm better than them."

"You're still being bullied." He said, flatly.

"They never stopped."

"You should have told me."

"You couldn't have changed anything if I did." I could practically hear Dad's heart sink at my admission. He would take it as a personal failure to protect me, but that didn't make it any less true.

"What about Emma? Maybe you two could have reconnected?"

My blood began to boil at the mention of that girl. "Dad, she's the one who started it all."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know! The summer break before high school and she just decided to turn on me for no reason and her asshole friend stuffed me in that locker and she gets away with everything because her dad's a lawyer." Here I was, rambling again.

"Oh god, Taylor…" He sighed, running his hands through his thinning hair. "I am going to kill Alan."

I really hoped he wasn't serious about killing Emma's father, even if the bastard did deserve it. "Dad, if I stay at Winslow, I'm going to lose it. When I do…I have powers now, and I could do something I'm going to regret later."

He nodded. I think he was beginning to understand. "And you think joining the Wards will make things better?"

"I can't get any worse. If I join the Wards, I can convince them to move me to Arcadia High. I get a fresh start away from the bullies and I get to do something that makes me feel good about myself. I need this, dad. _Please_."

Dad looked at me for a few minutes before softly saying: "All I ever wanted is for you to be happy…" He hugged me. The touch of his skin felt cold, as if there was some distance between us with the armor on. Still, it felt good to come clean. To cry on his shoulder, even if I didn't have tear ducts in this form. "We're both going to take a day off tomorrow. If you still feel the same way about this then, I'm calling the PRT. That okay?"

I nodded. Yeah, it was okay.

It was all going to be okay.


	8. Chapter 2-4

**Chapter 2-4**

I woke up at 6:28 to the sound of Dad's shower, like every other schoolday. Except this wasn't a schoolday, not really. Today I was going to join the Wards, get into Arcadia, and never worry about being bullied again. It was going to be a _good_ day. I couldn't remember the last time I woke up feeling this happy. I even caught myself humming while making breakfast.

I should probably stop. Being giddy like a schoolgirl is going to be bad for my reputation.

Dad came down from his room with bags under his eyes. Apparently he didn't sleep as well as I did. It made sense, I suppose. It took me weeks to understand what had happened to me and Dad only had the bombshell dropped on him yesterday. Maybe I should have given him a little more time to think things over, but that would mean going back to Winslow until he figured out what to do. I love my dad more than anyone in the world, but that's too much to handle, even for me.

We ate breakfast in silence, as usual, before Dad said: "Just so I know I haven't gone crazy… About yesterday…"

"Parahuman, sound control, I want to join the Wards." I summed up.

"Right." Dad rubbed his eyes, trying and failing to look a little less disheveled. "You really sure about this?"

"Yes. I want this more than anything in the world, right now."

Dad nodded. He wasn't happy about it, but he'll cope. "Alright then. You got the PRT's phone number somewhere?" I handed him my notebook and showed him. He took the book and looked through it, skimming over all the information I'd gathered. "Wow, you really did your homework, didn't you?"

"It's important, Dad. The last thing I want is to make things worse for me."

"Good girl." He dialed the number, and with that, the die was cast. "Yes, hello? You're the Parahuman Response Team, right? I'm Danny Hebert. My daughter has triggered and would like to join the Wards, I was wondering if…Yes, I'll hold…Hello? Yes…One hour…Yes, she'll be there. Alright, thanks." Dad put down the phone and visibly exhaled.

"And?"

"They'll send a guy over in about an hour. Apparently, he'll be disguised as a plumber."

It took a few seconds before I realized why. "Right. Because if a PRT van shows up, everyone will know I'm a parahuman."

"Guess so." I could tell from his breathing that he had more to say, but he stayed silent. The fact that me joining the Wards bothered him so much rattled me a little, but I understood why he felt that way. To me, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Winslow was just a bad memory now and honestly, fighting supervillains couldn't be much worse than going back to that hellhole of a school. I doubt Dad would ever be comfortable with it, though. "I should clean myself up. Wouldn't want to look like a mess in front of the PRT guys."

I shook my head in response. "I'll be okay, Dad."

He snickered. "That obvious, huh?"

"You look like you've been awake for weeks. Honestly, did you sleep at all last night?"

"Taylor, it's my job to worry about you, okay. I'll be fine. Now, you better get ready. Big day's coming up, you know."

"Biggest day of my life, probably."

Dad smiled and kissed me on the forehead. For all his faults, I was lucky to have him. I went upstairs and called my armor to me, before going over every note and scrap of information on the PRT that I had. The PRT would probably repeat everything later, but it couldn't hurt to make a good impression. The last thing I needed is to give anyone the idea that I wasn't committed to this.

An hour after the phone call, a van pulled up, as promised. 'Joe the Plumber', it said. Probably an in-joke somewhere. I was just about to run downstairs to greet them when my dad stopped me.

"You're running out, looking like that?" He asked, referring to the armor.

"They're expecting a superhero, not a ratty teenager. Besides, most of my powers don't work if I'm not wearing the suit."

"Fair enough. Let me open the door, though. Don't want to blow your secret identity right away." I nodded in response. Being careful was going to be a lot more important now. If someone figured out who I was, things could get messy. I heard the bell ring and hid up the stairs, away from the windows.

"Danny Hebert, right?" A rich, masculine voice said. "Massani, Parahuman Response Team. Heard you called about your daughter."

"That's us. Will you come in?" Dad sounded a little nervous. Judging by the heavy footfalls, our guest was probably a very big man.

"'Course." The newcomer responded. "So, where's the guest of honor?"

"Oh, right. Taylor, you can come out now." I took a deep breath before walking out of the stairwell.

The first thing I noticed was that the PRT agent was _huge_. He's easily as tall as my dad, but much broader and more muscular. I'd put him in his forties or early fifties. Scars covered his face, but he somehow managed to look friendly. Or maybe that was just practice. The man looked at me with a piercing glare that kind of reminded me of that Tattletale girl I met two nights ago. I could imagine him being really terrifying if he wanted to. "Well, that makes my job a lot easier." He said to himself, smiling. "Biggest part of my job is figuring out if you're actually a parahuman." Massani grabbed my hand and inspected the armor covering it. "Your case, though, it's obvious. Either you're a tinker or a changer, and I'm guessing it's the last one." According to my research, a tinker is someone who can make gadgets years ahead of his time and a changer is someone who can shape-shift. Changer sounds right to me.

"Does that actually happen?" Dad asked. "The not being a parahuman thing?"

"Heh, more than you'd think. Not a cape myself, but from what I hear, triggering doesn't come with a flash of light or anything. Hard to tell if you're parahuman smart or regular smart. Oh, and you won't believe how many people think they've got superstrength when they really just work out a whole bunch. Some parents actually want their kids to be capes, even when they aren't. Superhero-by-proxy, I guess. Your kid, though, she's got nothing to worry about. Not with that suit she's got."

"Umm, thanks?" I answered, nervously.

"Don't mention it. Now, what's your thing, kid?"

"I, umm, I control sound. I can hear everything in at least a hundred feet radius. I'm a bit stronger and faster too." I probably shouldn't have mentioned the last part. I was much stronger than I used to be before I triggered, but that didn't say much. Was I strong enough to impress someone like that?

"Parahuman strong?"

"I think… Not Alexandria strong but…"

"Think you can beat this old marine at arm wrestling without breaking my bones?"

My mouth moved before I finished thinking. "Maybe…I guess?" Oh god, what did I just get myself into?

"Show me." He commanded, before sitting down at the table with his arm stretched out. I grabbed his hand and we both started pushing on some unspoken signal. To my surprise, my arm didn't snap like a breadstick. Also to my surprise, neither did his. I was winning, though, albeit rather slowly, even when I put effort into it. Massani was stronger than I thought. "Not bad, if this's the best you've got. Brute 2, maybe 3. Definitely parahuman, though."

When the back of his hand touched the table, he let go. "Thanks, Mr. Massani."

"That's Sarge to you, kid. It's what everyone else calls me on the Rig anyway."

"The Rig?"

"Protectorate HQ. The giant, floating oil rig down in the bay. I teach the capes power-free hand-to-hand combat there."

A normal willingly fighting capes with nothing but his fists? Even if it's just training, that took some serious balls. My respect for the man just went up a notch. "Doesn't that get you beaten up all the time?"

Sarge laughed in response. "Kid, most capes don't actually have superstrength. Besides, they don't get to use powers in hand-to-hand training, remember? Kind of hard to learn from dear old Massani when he's ground to a pulp, now is it?"

"Ahem." My dad grunted, trying to get our attention. "As much as I like seeing my daughter bond with a man _three times her age_, I have to ask: What happens now?"

"Hmm. Well, we don't really have a standard procedure when it comes to recruiting Wards. Every parahuman is different and trying to figure out some sort of protocol is just gonna lead to a mess. Instead, we pretty much make things up as we go along and hope for the best."

"And that works?" Dad asked incredulously.

"Most of the time. A thorough background check and a few face-to-face meetings generally weeds out the bad apples. Not to say that there aren't gonna be any problems, but we deal with them the best we can." I mentally frowned a little. I knew it'd be stupid to pretend that all superheroes are shining paragons of humanity, but I was kind of hoping they were. Massani must have been able to read me somehow, because he continued: "I know that isn't what you wanna hear, but it's the truth. Capes are people too, for better or for worse."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't had many good experiences with people."

"Right. Lemme guess, trouble at school?" I tensed a little. How did he know that? "Before you ask, it's easy. You don't trigger unless something really bad happens to you. Your dad's here and he obviously cares about you, so it's not parental abuse. Your mom's not here, but I'm still seeing pictures of a woman around the house, so I'm guessing she died but that both of you've been able to cope with it. My condolences, by the way. Finally, you're not in any gang trouble, because if you were, you'd either go villain or ask us for protection." His analysis was right on the money. Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. He had done this before and I couldn't be the only one who triggered because of a bullying campaign. "So that leaves us with school. I'm guessing that you've been bullied a lot and that your trigger's been a prank gone bad. How am I doing?"

"Pretty much." I admitted. Didn't see a point in trying to lie to him anyway. "Couple of months ago, a bunch of girls stuffed me in a locker full of used tampons and left me there for hours. They got away with it too."

Sarge's eyes widened. "You're goddamn shitting me!" His sudden swearing startled me a little. Apparently he didn't care about his language anymore.

"One of the girls is a model and has a lawyer dad. The other is a track-team star. Nobody came forward so it was my word against theirs. Winslow just paid the medical bills and sent me on my way." I didn't know why I was being so open about this. Had to admit, though, it felt good, even if Massani was a stranger.

"Hell, kid, I've got nothing witty to say to that." He turned to my father and said: "Why the hell you letting your kid go to a school like that?!"

"Arcadia's got a waiting list a mile long and Winslow promised they'd take care of her after the locker incident. She only told me yesterday that they didn't. Along with the fact that she'd triggered."

"You've got enough to worry about, Dad." I interrupted. "If I told you, you'd only waste a bunch of time and money trying to fix this."

Massani shook his head. "Well, ain't you a goddamn saint. Anything we can do about it?"

"No. I don't care about the girls getting what's coming to them anymore. I just want the bullying to end. A transfer to Arcadia High would be enough."

"Hmm. I guess we can arrange that…"

My brain needed to do a double take. And then a triple take. And then a quadruple take. "You…you would do that? For me?"

"Kid, when a cape goes bad, things go down the shitter fast. Hell, just look at the Merchants. Even a bunch of drug addicts can be a goddamn nightmare when they got superpowers. So yeah, we've got plenty of incentive to keep you on the straight and narrow. Getting you to a school that's worth a damn's a small price to pay. 'Sides, you seem like a good kid. Be a damn shame to let a bunch of teenagers ruin that."

If I had a visible mouth in this form, my dad would probably say something about catching a fly. Sure, I'd been _hoping_ that the PRT would do something like that, but hearing it actually happen. "I…thank you. I don't know what to say."

"Hardly the weirdest thing we've done for a Ward. We take care of our own. Now, onto business. Right now, I'm going to take you to the Rig, okay? The director will probably want to talk to you in person. After that, we're going to make your dad fill out the paperwork, and we'll get started on testing you properly. Might even get to meet some of your new teammates. How does that sound?"

I smiled. "Sounds good, Sarge."


	9. Chapter 2-5

**Chapter 2-5**

It's funny how you can see something like the PHQ every day and never really grasp how big it is. The converted oil rig was a mess of small rooms, labs, workshops, and training areas designed to cater to every need its designers could think of. I think I spotted Assault walking around too. Oh, and the base flew. Somehow.

This place is awesome. I suppressed the urge to giggle.

Sarge led us through the maze of security terminals and polite-but-not-friendly PRT agents strewn about the place. It made me wonder what all these people were so paranoid about. I mean, the Rig is floating over the bay. How on earth are people supposed to get in without anyone noticing, especially in the middle of the day?

"It'll get better once they've seen your face around a couple of times, kid." Massani reassured. "They just don't like newcomers. Wouldn't be the first time someone tried infiltrating this place. Can't be too careful when capes are involved."

I silently nodded in response. I had to admit that I was as terrified of this place as I was giddy. It was like getting to meet a famous pop star face-to-face. Sure, you've seen it all several times on TV, but that doesn't prepare you for the real thing. I just didn't know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut. Better that people think I'm shy than a bumbling idiot.

My reverie was broken when I noticed a very pleased-looking Armsmaster right in front of us. I mentally slapped myself. How the hell did I miss a giant man in power armor. Focus! We're not a bunch of tourists.

"Good to see you again." He said with a wide grin on his face. "Figured you'd come to us sooner rather than later. It's nice to have a name to put with the face."

"You know my daughter?" Dad asked incredulously. Right, I hadn't told him about that.

"I was the first on the scene when she took down Lung. We talked a little, I made a recruitment pitch…"

Suddenly, Sarge stepped forward. I'd forgotten he'd been there. Focus, dammit! "Now hold on one goddamn minute!" He said before grabbing me by the shoulder. "_You're_ the one who took down Lung? _The_ Lung?!"

"Well, yeah." Was all I could get out.

"And you didn't tell me about it?"

"I just got lucky and I don't like to brag…"

"Un-fucking-believable." He said before laughing. "Goddamn adorable you are. Bet the director's really pissy Armsmaster didn't bring you in right away. Anyway, I'll let you kids do your thing. See ya around."

Him mentioning the director didn't make me any less nervous though. "Am I in trouble, Armsmaster?"

"No." He replied. Firm and direct, like I remembered. "The director and I have a…difference of opinion when it comes to recruiting. She prefers a more aggressive approach. In your case, that wasn't necessary. Piggot disagreed." I don't know what he meant by 'aggressive', but I'm glad he didn't try to coerce me or something. Then again, the director might not be so considerate…

"Thanks…" I needed to stop sounding so uncertain. Seriously, I'm just embarrassing myself.

"Don't mention it. You took out Lung by yourself to save someone you've never met. I think you've earned the benefit of the doubt. The director does want to see you, however. If you'd follow me…"

We walked the rest of the way in silence until my dad prodded me and said: "You never said anything about meeting Armsmaster…"

"I didn't want to talk about Lung, either. He got a couple of good hits on me and I'd just end up scaring you if I told you about it. Besides, it was luck, not skill. Nothing worth bragging about."

Dad sighed. "I think a lot of people would disagree. From now on, you tell me what's going on, okay? Last thing I want to hear is that you've become a crime lord and are running half the city."

"Alright, Dad." I guess I would have to be more honest with him in the future. Holding my cards close to my chest has its advantages, but Dad genuinely wants to be a bigger part of my life now. Maybe he feels guilty for not seeing the signs sooner? Or maybe he just wants to be a proper dad.

Armsmaster led us to a conference room. Strangely enough, the pit of awe and dread in my stomach hadn't gone anywhere. You'd think I'd have gotten used to seeing important faces by now, but apparently I hadn't. It was only the director, I told myself. Yes, only the person who'd essentially be my boss for the next couple of years, a traitorous part of my mind reminded me. Oh hell.

The first thing I noticed about the director was her frown. When I came through the door, she had a strange, disapproving look on her face. Did she always have that, or was it just me? Had I made a bad first impression? I pushed the thought out of my mind. The woman offered me and my dad a seat while silently sizing me up. It was at this very awkward moment that my brain decided to remind me that I was, for all intents and purposes, totally naked.

Fuck you, brain.

I squashed the absurd thought by returning the director's glare. It's moments like these that I'm glad my suit came with a mask.

"I'm Emily Piggot, director of PRT East-North-East." She stated, flatly. "You're Taylor Hebert, the girl that took down Lung."

"Umm, yeah, that's me…" I suppose Armsmaster must have told her who I was.

Piggot's glare didn't waver. "There is a sort of balance of power between the gangs in Brockton Bay." She stated, flatly. "None of them are powerful enough to go to war with another without leaving themselves exposed to us. Because of that, they mostly keep to their own territories and the violence is kept to a minimum. Your actions have upset that balance." I nervously shifted in my seat. I didn't like where this was going. "Whether you realize it or not, you've just started a gang war. With Lung out of the picture, the ABB will probably be destroyed by the other gangs. Without the ABB to keep them in check, the Empire 88 gang will try to expand into their former territory. Maybe this will make the Empire 88 much more powerful and they'll decide to turn on the other gangs. Maybe the E88 will overextend itself and fall apart. Maybe new gang will move in and challenge us. Whatever happens, it _will _involve violence. Your decision to go after Lung _will_ indirectly result in innocent people getting hurt."

My heart stood still. I…I never wanted to start a war. I just wanted to be a hero and save people. This wasn't supposed to happen. Except it did.

"Are you accusing my daughter of something, director?" My father growled.

The director's expression hadn't changed at all. "Your daughter is powerful, Mr. Hebert. Having the deck stacked in your favor doesn't change the fact that she single-handedly defeated someone who took on an Endbringer and won. You're a cape, Taylor. With power comes responsibility. Maybe you think that having superpowers makes you special, but underneath that armor, you're still a fifteen-year-old girl with a lot to learn and I don't think you're ready to handle the kind of power you've got. Not on your own. That's what the Wards program is ultimately for: To make sure that people like you can learn how to use their power and keep them from making a mistake that will get themselves or someone else killed."

I could hear my dad's heart pound in his chest. It wasn't a sound I liked hearing. "You make it sound like she's some sort of murderer waiting to happen!"

"Mr. Hebert, she _did_ nearly murder someone. Not someone I feel any sympathy for, but still. Now, I'm sure Taylor didn't plan to hurt Lung as much as she did, or that she enjoyed it, but that doesn't change what happened. While the PRT won't come after her for this, the gangs might; either for revenge, or to recruit her."

Anger boiled to the surface. I may have made a mistake, but being called a criminal was too much. "I'm _not_ a villain! I would _never_ work for a gang!"

"Not willingly." Piggot calmly replied. "But would you still be as resolute if the Merchants stuck a needle full of heroin in your arm? What if someone kidnaps your father and threatens to kill him unless you start working for them? You fall into a dangerous middle-ground when it comes to powers, Taylor: Strong enough to be a huge asset to whoever gets their hands on you and weak enough to be conscripted against your will. Gangs _will_ come after you, one way or another. You wouldn't be the first cape that turned villain because of something like that. That is why joining us is in your best interest. You need us as much as we need you."

Piggot is a bitch, I decided. A fat bitch too. Physically speaking, she was an absolute mess. Along from being massively overweight, her skin looked sickly, her hands seemed a little swollen, and I could hear that she had trouble breathing. The director looked like she should have been in a hospital. In fact, I could probably deck her with a single punch. Still, she had a strength of will that was, quite frankly, terrifying. How somebody who looked so frail could be so intimidating was utterly beyond me.

Bitch or not, though, she was right. Not just about me, but about everything. I had been short-sighted. In taking down Lung, I had unwittingly put god-knows how many lives at risk.

"Was going after Lung the wrong decision?" I asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he would have started a gang war on his own. Maybe he would have done something worse. We don't know , and we probably never will. If nothing else, I'll sleep betting knowing that Lung's off the streets."

"Then why tell me this? Why…"

"…am I being such a bitch?" The director interrupted.

"I wasn't going to say it." I muttered apologetically.

"But you were thinking it. Everyone does. My job is to keep parahumans from ripping the city apart. Essentially, it is to keep people like you on a leash. A normal can't melt a hole in a ceiling and take on two dozen men unarmed. Capes, however, do things like that all the time, recklessly throwing themselves from one dangerous situation into the next, consequences be damned. Powers are not a toy, Ms. Hebert. This isn't a harmless game of cops-and-robbers you're playing."

"Don't you think I don't know that?!" I snapped back. "I nearly killed Lung by accident and I almost died in the attempt! I know it isn't a fucking game!" It took a minute before I realized what I just did. I just yelled at the director of the PRT. Crap.

To my surprise, she didn't get angry. She just smiled. "Good."

"Good?"

"You know you're not invincible and you know your powers can kill." Piggot explained. "Those are probably the two most important lessons every cape will have to learn. The capes that don't either end up dead or in jail. I needed to know if you'd learn that lesson fighting Lung."

Suddenly, the pieces fell in place. "You were…testing me…"

"Yes," She said. The smile had disappeared, even if her tone wasn't as harsh as before. "and I will do it again. I have to if I want you to be prepared for the reality of being a Ward. Being good at hitting things isn't enough. Superheroes have to be more than just blunt instruments. They are symbols. People that others are supposed to look up to. We have standards to uphold. You're smart enough to know your limits. That's good. It means that you'll be more careful in the future with your powers. You're also emotionally resilient enough not to lose your temper or break down into tears when I criticize you. That's going to be important when the press starts to ask questions. I may be harsh, but I'm a saint compared to those vultures."

"Guess that's two years of being bullied paying off…"

The director's eyes narrowed. "I see. Records mention that you're enrolled in Winslow High. I suppose you'll want a transfer to Arcadia, then?"

"Sarge mentioned that you could do that."

"Officer Massani was right. We will iron out the particulars later, maybe arrange some form of homeschooling if it's needed. Transferring you right away could lead to problems in the future."

"You don't want people to guess my secret identity by looking at Arcadia's new arrival list." I reasoned.

"Exactly. Now, with that out of the way, I would like to formally invite you into the Wards program." Piggot held out a hand. This was it, wasn't it? If I took it, it'd be the end of my old life and the beginning of a new one. I briefly glanced at my dad. He nodded in approval.

I took the director's hand. "I accept."

Piggot smiled for a second time. "Welcome aboard, Taylor."


	10. Chapter 2-6

**Chapter 2-6**

While Dad and Director Piggot were busy with the paperwork, Armsmaster led me to a gym on the bottom floor for testing. Or _preliminary _testing, as the hero insisted.

"Any testing we now will only tell us what you're capable off today. The Wards will train you, which should increase the strength and control of your powers, or at the very least allow you to use them more creatively. I fully expect that in the coming months, we will have to test you again to reassign your ratings."

"What exactly do the ratings mean? For me, that is."

"On their own, not much. Powers are complex and varied. You can't boil them down to a few numbers and expect to have a complete read on what you're capable off."

"So what's the point then? Is it just short-hand?"

"Pretty much. Imagine if we have to send you over to another city to deal with some crisis. The ratings will give heroes who've never met you a reasonable understanding of your limits. I would like to stress that ratings do _not _indicate how valuable you are to our organization or how powerful you are in general. You will not use them to compare yourself to others." That last part sounded vaguely like a threat, but I wasn't sure if he intended it like that.

"You don't want us getting competitive over this."

"Exactly. None of us chose or earned our powers. We got them because we won some cosmic lottery. You shouldn't be proud of something that was given to you from on high. It's the training and effort you put in that truly matters." He sounded a little upset, but I chose not to pry. Armsmaster was The Boss, in a way. Unless you count Piggot. I wasn't sure where she stood in the superhero pecking order. Somebody would probably tell me when it's relevant.

The gym wasn't what I was expecting. For starters, there was something that looked like an industrial-grade press sitting in a corner. Probably for the people with super-strength. On top of that, it was large enough to pull double duty as a soccer field. Then there were the devices that looked like they came straight out of a science fiction movie. All in all, my sense of awe still wasn't fading. I had no idea if I was walking into a gym or a medieval torture chamber.

Better nip that train of thought in the bud.

There weren't many people using it this time of day. Then again, it was still morning, so I guess most of the Wards and PRT agents had other duties. Armsmaster directed me to two people: a friendly-looking elderly man in a lab-coat and a teenager in a rust and silver costume. "I will leave you in the capable hands of Dr. Jackson and Aegis. You and Aegis will spar so we can see the extend of your abilities and know which tests we have to perform later."

"You want me to fight my future teammate?" I asked, surprised. It sounded like a terrible way to make a first impression. "No offense, but what if I hurt him?"

Aegis smiled. "It's Taylor, right?" I nodded. "Well, you don't need to worry about me. I've got back-up organs and regenerate almost instantly. Being a meatshield is sort of my job. Don't take this the wrong way, but whatever you've got, I've probably taken worse. You won't need to hold back."

"If you say so…" I wanted to say: 'I bet that's what Lung thought too', but that'd sound too much like bragging and I was feeling far too nervous to be witty.

"Aegis usually acts as our front line in combat, Taylor." Armsmaster reassured. "There are very few people that can seriously injure him. Before I go, two things for my report: We found a large, circular hole melted into the ceiling of a nearby warehouse that the ABB uses as a staging ground. I will assume that is your doing?"

"I guess…If I try hard enough, I can use sound waves to break up wood and stone. It takes a lot of effort, though."

"Fair enough. Secondly, could you show me the weapon you used to eviscerate Lung?"

I blinked. Did he really just ask that? In public? In front of a guy I was supposed to fight in a few minutes and with a tone that sounded like he was talking about the weather? I could hear a strange sound escape Aegis' throat, like a small whine. He was probably reconsidering his previous statement right about now.

This had to be some sort of in-joke. There was no way someone like Armsmaster could be _this_ blunt. "Taylor? Your weapon, please."

"Oh…oh, right." I snapped out of it and called the weapon forth. The familiar three-pronged glaive appeared in my right hand, as always.

Aegis stared at the weapon and with a look on his face that I couldn't quite place. Dr. Jackson stepped forward, took a pen out of his pocket, and slid it past one of the edges. The pen was sliced neatly in half. "Hmm, interesting." He said in a voice that sounded far too calm and fatherly for someone talking about something this deadly. It was rattling that someone could be so unfazed by a massive knife that _grew out of someone's hand_. "I suppose this is sharp enough to cause the injuries we saw on Lung. While we cannot be sure thanks to his regeneration, I'm willing to guess that this is the weapon you've been looking for. Is this the only weapon you can summon?"

"Yes. I tried everything, batons, tasers, guns, even regular knives. This is the only thing that comes out." I remember trying for weeks to get something else. Preferably something non-lethal and more heroic-looking. To my dismay, it never worked.

"And the same counts for your suit?" I tensed a little. The doctor shouldn't have known that.

"Yes." After a second, I added. "How did you know about that?"

"I read Armsmaster's preliminary report on Lung yesterday. I didn't know you were the same girl until Armsmaster informed us. As for the weapon, it looks like it's supposed to be thrown, like an overgrown shuriken. You'd have to talk to Miss Militia about that. She knows more about weapons than I do, for obvious reasons." The doctor said with a smile. He reminded me a little of what Dad was like before Mom died. "In any case, I think Aegis would appreciate it if you _didn't_ use it on him."

"Please do." Aegis said. "I'm not sure if I can regenerate from being _sliced in half_."

"I'm sure it won't get that far." The doctor replied with a fatherly smile on his face. Armsmaster had already left. He probably had other things to do. "We'll just have to be careful. Let's start slow and work our way up from there." With that, he got behind a forcefield of some kind and started working on his equipment. "Alright. Taylor, Aegis, whenever you're ready, you may begin.

Aegis nodded to me and raised his fists into a fighting stance. I steadied my breathing and started thinking. Being the Wards team leader, he'd have a huge advantage when it came to experience. He'd fought supervillains in the past and had trained with other capes for years. I didn't have that. That said, I still have some advantages of my own. For one: I knew what Aegis' power was: flight and super-fast regeneration. He didn't know what _my _power was. I could catch him of guard with the right kind of move.

The Ward made the first more. He stepped forward, ready to attack. In the blink of an eye, I _pushed_ and sent him flying. He hit the ground, rolled a couple of times, and went still.

Wait, what?

That didn't make any sense! The guy leads the freaking Wards! There's no way someone like Aegis would go down that easily. I hit normals with the same blast and they were still walking afterwards. It's not like the attack was lethal: his heart was still beating and his breathing hadn't stopped.

Dr. Jackson walked out of the forcefield with a shocked look on his face. "Good God, Taylor, you killed him…" There was something off about his voice, though. I didn't get the impression that he was being entirely serious.

"No, I didn't. I can hear his heart rate and his breathing. He's fine." The doctor suddenly laughed. Then it hit me. "You can stop playing dead now, Aegis."

I heard Aegis, alive and well, laugh. "She didn't fall for it at all. Great. So much for our official Wards initiation. Clockblocker will never let me hear the end of this."

"You should have seen Kid Win's." The doctor said to me. "He tried to improvise a defibrillator on the spot."

"'Mutant cattle prod from hell' would be a better description. That thing hurt more than his laser pistol did. Anyway, I think we can add 'Thinker' to the list too, right Doc?"

"Well, she's got superhearing, alright. How far does it extend, Taylor?"

"I can overhear conversations at least 30 feet away if I focus." I answered. "Any further than that, and it gets hard to make out words. I can remove sound too, by the way." With a gesture, I silenced myself and stomped the ground a few times before banishing the effect.

Aegis looked at me thoughtfully, probably thinking of ways to use it in the field. "Impressive. How about you show me what else you can do." He said, before taking a fighting stance again. "I promise I won't take a dive this time."

I smiled and nodded. Aegis lunged at me and I fought back. The first thing I noticed is that I still have a lot to learn when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. Aegis was a lot slower than I was, but he knew where and how to hit. I just wasn't skilled enough to dodge him, even if I could see the blows coming a mile away. Infuriating.

"Stop." He said. "Look at your hands. See how your fingers are covering your thumb? Don't do that. You'll break something if you punch too hard."

I nodded and corrected myself before taking another swing. I managed to hit him square in the jaw. Not that it did any visible damage. On top of that, I had the suspicion he let me hit him just to see how strong I was. Like I said, infuriating.

That said, I liked it. Sparring with an actual human being was fun, even if I was probably embarrassing myself. It made me angry, but in a good way. Having a regenerator around was a great way of blowing off steam.

Aegis dodged another one of my pathetic flailings masquerading as a right hook and landed a one-two punch straight in my chest. Hard enough for my shields to flicker into existence. The hero seemed surprised for a moment before tackling me and knocking me to the ground.

"You've got a forcefield?"

"Yeah. Tough enough to take a few of Lung's fireballs."

"Huh. Does it regenerate?"

"It does after a few seconds, I think. Haven't tested it much."

"Great. This is gonna take a while." In that, he was absolutely right.

I _pushed_ Aegis off me and sent him flying. The hero reacted quickly, though, and used his flight to land on his feet. So much for that trick. I started thinking. What else did I have at my disposal? Aegis regenerated, so I couldn't really hurt him. I'd have a better chance breaking down a brick wall with my fists than to stop him. My pushes knocked him back, but his flight compensated for that and I didn't think it dealt any real damage. Silencing myself wouldn't help much: I was in clear view and it'd only screw up my concentration.

On the flip side, I didn't think Aegis could really do all that much to me either. When it came to raw strength, he still had human limits. My shield could take a hell of a lot of damage before going down; I didn't think the hero had the firepower to get through it, let alone cut through the armor as well. Still, that wouldn't help me beat him. Could I even beat him? I beat up Lung, after all. But I used my glaive for that. Right. That wasn't an option now. Miniature earthquake? No, I'd damage the facility. Attrition, then? I had excellent stamina. Maybe Aegis got tired? I couldn't think of anything else to do.

As it turned out, Aegis didn't get tired. Or at least, not fast enough. My arms were getting tired, my reflexes were slowing, and the hero showed no signs of exhaustion at all. Fucking regenerators.

Eventually, Aegis tackled me, slammed my body on the ground, and I couldn't bring myself to get up. "Okay, boss, you win." I wheezed. In spite of my morning runs, my stamina still left a lot to be desired.

"You lasted twelve minutes." Somebody said. Right, Dr. Jackson. "Not bad, I think."

Aegis smiled and asked me: "Just for the record: did that shield ever go down?"

"Not as far as I could tell." I replied. "Just for the record: do you ever get tired?"

"I can't. Part of my power. You tried grinding me down, didn't you?"

"Couldn't think of anything else. Punches weren't enough. Powers weren't enough. Couldn't use the glaive. You're infuriating to fight."

"Guilty as charged." Aegis snickered. "You got what you needed, doc?"

"Enough for a preliminary report. That is, unless Taylor has something to add?"

"No, I'm good." I said. If there was anything else to my power that I know of, I would have thrown it at Aegis already. Armsmaster already told him about the lethal stuff.

"Excellent. You kids go have fun now. I'll call you if I need anything else."

Aegis picked me up off the floor. "Good to have you on the team, Taylor."

"Thanks." I said, smiling. I actually managed to impress. "So…what happens now?"

"Now? Put on some civilian clothes. Most of the team is still in school right now, but I managed to get Kid Win and Clockblocker. We'll have lunch. Hang out. How does that sound?"

It sounded like something normal teenagers did with their friends. In other words, an utterly alien experience for me. I was looking forward to it.

"Sounds great."


	11. Chapter 2-7

**Chapter 2-7**

Aegis led me to the girls' locker room so I could get changed. I had to admit, I didn't like going in there. Not after what happened in January. It felt like such a stupid thing, to be afraid of locker rooms. What if a supervillain decided to hide in one? I shook my head and willed myself through the door. Stupid me. Hopefully, Aegis didn't notice anything. If he did, he didn't say. Not sure what to think about that…

I banished my armor and started putting on some civilian clothes I brought from home. Just jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing fancy. Not like I had the looks for something more daring anyway. Prettying myself up would just come across as trying too hard to impress.

Now that I was thinking about it, what did I really want from the Wards? Not the Wards program itself, but the individuals I'd be working with for the foreseeable future. Did I want friends? Something more? Something less? I've heard that people my age (or anyone, for that matter) need lots of friends in order to stay sane and develop properly. That probably wasn't entirely true; Emma was all I ever needed throughout elementary and middle school. I had plenty of acquaintances, but she was the only one I'd genuinely call a friend, and things were just fine. Right until high school started. Would I have been better off if I had more friends than just Emma? Maybe they would have called Emma out on her bullshit and things would never have gotten this far. Alternatively, they could have joined right in. It was impossible to tell in hindsight.

What was I supposed to do about these guys, though? I read about them as part of my research after I triggered, but my focus was on their abilities, not on who they were. I probably wouldn't have found much even if I had been looking for it. As far as I know, they could be like the old Emma, or they could be worse than the new one. There was no way of knowing without trying to befriend them and in order to do that, I needed to open myself up to them. Tell them my worries and my secrets. Make myself _vulnerable_ again. Was I willing to take that risk, after what happened last time?

No. No, I wasn't. I wouldn't survive another betrayal. Maybe I should just treat them like colleagues? They'd probably see me as cold or distant, but that's better than having to live through another bullying campaign.

I overheard a conversation on the other end of the door. Huh, must be the other Wards.

"'Morning, Aegis." A new voice said. "Heard we got a new member."

"We did." Aegis answered. "She's inside getting changed."

"I have to ask…"

"Clockblocker, please don't."

"Is she cute?" I blinked. Was _that_ really the first question that came to mind?

Aegis sighed, his mood mirroring my own. "I will not dignify that question with a response."

"Oh, c'mon! We're teenagers. That's supposed to be the first thing on our minds. Besides, we're the only team on the eastern seaboard with more guys than girls. About time we got some more ladies around here."

"Well, there's always Vista and Shadow Stalker…" A third voice said. Must be Kid Win.

"Vista's like a little sister and Shadow Stalker is…well…Shadow Stalker. I'm not _that _desperate."

"What are the new girl's powers, anyway?" Kid Win asked. "All I heard is that we got a new member."

I could hear Aegis smirk. "You heard about what happened to Lung?"

Clockblocker answered first. "Yeah. Some new cape crashes an ABB meeting, beats up all his goons, then slices him in half. It's the talk of the town. Wait, that's her?"

"Yep."

I thought I heard Clockblocker whimper a bit. Bet he just realized what he said. "Okay. That's just great. How much I need to pay you guys to keep your mouth shut?"

"Actually, she's got super-hearing too." I could almost hear the grin on Aegis' face. He loved rubbing it in, didn't he?

"You're shitting me."

"Nope. Hey Taylor," Aegis whispered "could you knock on the door a few times?" I obliged.

"Well, crap." Clockblocker must have thought he pissed me off. I didn't know what to think about that.

"She can also cancel out sound in an area around her. Very good for sneaking around."

"So basically I'm screwed, right? Guess I have to freeze her and run away screaming like a little girl."

Kid Win chuckled. "And here he keeps saying there aren't enough girls on the team…"

Having finished changing, I decided to make my entrance. No point in stalling it any further, unless I wanted to hear more boy-talk. I took a deep breath and steeled myself. I'm just meeting my future team mates. Nothing special. I could do this. "Hi, I'm Taylor. Nice to meet you."

A boy in red and gold power-armor stepped forward first. "Kid Win, nice to meet you too. Don't worry about Clockblocker." He said, pointing at the Ward in white armor with clock motifs. "He's just busy trying to get his foot out of his mouth."

Clockblocker chuckled softly. "Yeah, sorry about that. Please don't do something horrible."

"Oh? Like what?" I asked.

"Like following me home, breaking into my house, rearranging all the furniture day after day until I go completely insane?"

I blinked. "What."

"So you won't do that?"

"Uhh, no, I won't do that."

"Good. Because that would be a terrible thing to do."

Not that it was a bad idea, coming to think of it. If I ever fought a villain with OCD, breaking into their homes and rearranging their stuff would seriously mess with their head. I'd have to hold onto that one.

Aegis shook his head. "Don't mind Clockblocker. He's always like that." Then, without warning, he took of his mask. "Hi, I'm Carlos. Before you ask, we're teammates now."

Clockblocker was next. "Dennis."

"And I'm Chris." Kid Win said. "Nice to meet you."

I had to admit, I was a little surprised that they were willing to unmask right in front of me. A hero's secret identity is their best line of defense, both for themselves and their loved ones. I could post this information online or sold it to the highest bidder. I _wouldn't_, but they couldn't have known that. Or maybe they did. The Protectorate has known about my existence for several hours now. With the ridiculous amount of resources available to them, that should have been enough to vet me already. Even if it wasn't, I'm pretty sure that I'm nowhere near a good enough actress to try and fool someone like Armsmaster or Piggot.

Still, it was a big show of trust. One I appreciated more than I thought I would.

"Now, with that out of the way, let's get some lunch and get to know each other." Aegis said.

"Oh, I know just the place."

To Clockblocker, or Dennis, the best place to have lunch is a fast food joint/Brockton Bay institution named Fugly Bob's. More specifically, it was _the_ place to be if you wanted to kill your diet and gain a few pounds. They probably didn't have a single item on the menu that could be considered healthy by any stretch of the imagination. Portions at Fugly Bob's started at 'large' and went up from there. Oh, well, it's not like I'm in any danger of getting fat any time soon, not with my stick-thin figure. Why, I could probably gain a few pounds.

"…so I played dead like I normally do and she barely reacts! Turns out, she could tell my heart was still beating." Carlos said, telling the others about what happened earlier today.

"Excuses, excuses." Dennis replied, taking another bite out of his massive hamburger. Apparently his earlier awkwardness had completely faded.

"What? It's not my fault she's got super-hearing."

"You're just a crap actor. I'm just better at horrible pranks than you are. Next time, _I_ get to handle the hazing."

Carlos turned to me and said: "See what I have to deal with? Dennis' a magnet for paperwork."

"Yes, we all feel very sorry for you." Chris muttered.

"What do you think, Taylor?" Carlos asked me. "Mind helping me out here?"

I flinched a little. I never liked being the center of attention and I certainly didn't like having to pick sides. "Well, you know what his…'nickname' is, right? What were you expecting?" A non-committal response, but it was the best I could manage. Socializing has always been hard for me.

"That it's just a phase and he'd grow out of it? Meh, guess that's too much to hope for." Carlos shrugged. "But don't worry, Dennis, you're next in line. When I graduate, you'll be in charge. That means all sorts of delightful paperwork, having _responsibility_, and talking to Piggot every time someone does something wrong."

"I'll make sure to be as big a pain in the ass as possible when Carlos' gone." Chris was grinning like a madman.

"Oh, have mercy, Chris." Dennis said, with a false expression of shock on his face.

"Maybe I should come by every now and then. Make sure you're still having fun."

"Now that's just plain villainous."

Part of me cringed a little seeing the Wards being so openly friendly with each other. It wasn't that I didn't expect the Wards to be friends with one another, it's that they were so up-front about it. While there's nothing wrong with that per se, if one of us was ever unmasked, how long before we all were? Aren't superheroes supposed to be a little more careful than this? Secret identity, and all that?

"You're a quiet one, aren't you, Taylor?" Chris suddenly said. Great, now I had to say something. How does one answer a question like that anyway? 'Yeah, I don't like opening up to other people because I think you're going to stab me in the back one day?' That would go over well.

"Well, yes, but…are you sure it's a good idea to hang out, you know…with our, umm, _other_ job?" Logically, I knew they were just trying to be friends. That didn't stop me from feeling like I was in a spy movie.

The Wards looked at each other, before Chris said: "You don't know, don't you? Few people outside the cape community do."

"Know what?"

"Unwritten laws?" I shook my head. "Right. Well, capes have rules."

"Unwritten rules." Dennis interjected.

"Rules that every cape sticks to, heroes and villains, no matter what. It's one of the few things that keeps the US from going turning into a giant parahuman warzone. Example: you don't go after someone's secret identity. Ever."

"You may have noticed that villains rarely get unmasked after they've been arrested, right?" Carlos said. "That's not just a courtesy or to protect a villain's family. We do that because if wedon't respect the villains' secret identities, they won't respect ours. If we start outing the bad guys en masse, what's to keep them from doing the same to us?"

"But they're villains." I argued. "They wouldn't be villains if they played by the rules."

Dennis chuckled. "Absolutely, but this is different. Villains generally aren't team players but if one of them breaks the unwritten laws, they _will_ be dogpiled to death. Trust me, I've seen it. Way things work around here, the people doing the outing are usually worse off than the people being outed."

"What Dennis means is that you don't need to worry too much about people finding out our secret identities." Carlos explained. "Even if someone did, they wouldn't be able to do anything with the information without screwing themselves over. Going after a cape's family, _especially _a Ward's, is a death sentence. If they're lucky, we get the bastard first and throw them in the slammer for a long time. It they aren't, the villains will take it as an excuse to get rid of a potential rival. Permanently."

"In other words, our civilian identities can still be friends." Chris reassured. "In fact, we'd like to be."

That shook me, more than it probably shook. "Really?" I mentally slapped myself. What kind of loser is surprised when someone offers to be their friend?

"Why not? You seem like one of the good guys."

"I just…" Words flapped out of my mouth. I needed to shut up. There was nothing I could say that wouldn't make me sound like a social reject. If I said nothing, though… "I'm not used to this. I get bullied in school…a lot. I triggered because a bunch of girls trapped me in a locker and left me to rot. Everyone stays away from me because they're afraid they'll get bullied too." God, I sounded pathetic. "I'm sorry, this is ridiculous. I shouldn't bother you with my problems."

The Wards looked at each other before coming to some sort of silent consensus.

"That's okay. You're not the only one with problems, Taylor." Chris said. "Just talk with someone about it or you'll go nuts."

"And I'll end up with rearranged furniture."

"Dennis…"

"It's not actually a bad idea." I added. "There's got to be at least one villain we can scare out of town that way."

Carlos visibly groaned. I bet he could already see the mountain of paperwork a stunt like that would generate. "Now you've done it." He muttered. The guys and I shared a laugh at his expense. It…actually felt good. I got the impression that the Wards understood me, to some extent. They genuinely wanted to be my friend. I felt like an ass for being so suspicious. I might have had my reasons, but that didn't mean I should treat everyone as a potential danger. Sometimes, the other shoe just doesn't drop.

When we walked back to base, I couldn't help but notice that I was walking a little taller.


	12. Chapter 2-8

**Chapter 2-8**

"Ghettoblaster!"

"No."

Coming up with a good, heroic cape name is hard.

"Sonic Ninja!"

"No."

On the one hand, I wanted a name that inspires something that at least resembled respect. Something that others will look up to. As a Ward, I needed to be a symbol and a good name is a big part of that. On the other hand, I don't want a name that give people the impression that I'm something I'm not. I've fretted for months trying to find that perfect balance and failed. Now, I finally had some help from some people with a lot more experience in this.

"Soundmaster!"

"For god's sake, Dennis, please shut up." Kid Win groaned.

In retrospect, asking someone who called himself Clockblocker for help probably wasn't a good idea.

"Oh, c'mon! The girl's a badass. She needs a proper, badass cape name. How about Screamer?"

"Already looked that one up." I finally chimed in. "Former member of the Slaughterhouse Nine."

"See, Dennis?" Chris said. "This is why we can't let you name things. It's actually part of the regs."

"No, it isn't."

"How would you know? You never read them."

"Touché."

Suddenly Carlos cleared his throat. "How about Banshee? An Irish spirit associated with screaming."

I thought about it for a minute. Banshee. It had a nice ring to it. While it wasn't as heroic-sounding as I would have liked, at least it wasn't completely corny. With my powerset being best suited for sneaking around, naming myself after a spirit made sense.

Chris looked the name up on his computer. "Hmm. It's not taken, and I don't think the PR guys will object too much. Taylor?"

Banshee. I smiled. "Sounds good. I like it."

A pair of heavy footfalls came through the door. I turned to the newcomer: a figure clad in black armor and a black cloak. "So, who's the…new…girl…"

My heart froze. That voice. I recognized that voice. But it couldn't be _her_. There's no way in hell _she_ could be a Ward.

"Oh, there you are." Aegis said. "Shadow Stalker, meet…"

"Taylor Hebert." Shadow Stalker interrupted. She removed her mask and I recognized her immediately. It was Sophia Hess. Shadow Stalker was Sophia Hess. "Is this some sort of joke? Did Piggot put you up to this? Trying to lure me out?!"

"Hold on there, Sophia, what's…" Aegis turned to me and asked: "You two have a history?"

My hands were shaking. Was I angry? Afraid? Disappointed? I didn't know. It was as if all my emotions decided to take a time out, lock themselves in a room and debate on what I should be doing. "She turned my best friend against me. Made the past two years a living hell." The words slowly flowed out of my mouth. There was only a hint on anger in my voice. I don't know how I was able to stay this calm. "She pushed me in a locker filled with rotten tampons and left me to die. I was in a coma for a week."

"You can't prove that!" Sophia yelled. She sounded…defensive. Or was it afraid?

Aegis shook his head. "Sophia, you know I'm not the one to swear in public, but what the _fuck_ were you thinking?!"

How had she even managed to get this close without me noticing? Sophia had a distinct footfall and voice. By now, I should have been able to hear her coming several hallways away. It had saved my ass in school a dozen times by now. How could I have missed this? Then it hit me: I wasn't paying attention. I thought I was _safe_.

I'd deluded myself into thinking _I was safe_.

"Oh, you're taking her word over mine?" Sophia angrily growled.

"One: I know you. Two: I'm _not_ a complete retard. Three: If you hadn't done anything wrong, why get so defensive? I'm sorry, but I have to tell Armsmaster and Piggot about this."

By now, I wasn't even paying attention to the conversation anymore. Part of me wanted to hit her. Another part was chastising me for not wearing my armor. Another just wanted to run away, to scream and cry. Even here, I couldn't escape the bullies. That sense of relief and freedom I had was just an illusion. Another joke the universe played on me.

"What, so they can throw me aside for that weak, pissy crybaby over there?!" Suddenly, Clockblocker started laughing. "The fuck's so funny?!"

"He's laughing because you just nominated yourself for a Darwin Award." Kid Win answered. "That 'weak, pissy crybaby' nearly offed Lung on her first night out."

"Bullshit."

Without warning, Armsmaster stomped in the room. He seemed very angry. "Hmm. I'd hoped to catch you two sooner. Aegis, Shadow Stalker. With me. Now." He commanded. The sheer presence of his voice shook me out of my thoughts. "Taylor, I would appreciate it if you didn't do anything rash."

My hands were still shaking. My mind wasn't doing much better. I wanted…I needed to do something, to say anything…but I had nothing to say. I turned around and walked away.

At least I managed to find an empty room before my emotions finally caught up with me. I started sobbing and before long I was weeping, screaming incoherently while pounding my fists against the wall. It wasn't fair. Why should someone like Sophia get powers? Why should she get to be a hero? Why does everything in my life get corrupted by bullies?

Why wouldn't they just leave me alone?

My legs gave way and I collapsed on the ground. My tears were flowing freely. Goddammit, Sophia had been right. I was weak. I should have stood up to her. I shouldn't have run away like I always did. Except I couldn't, because I'm a fucking coward. What was I even thinking? Me, a hero? I couldn't even fight high school bullies.

The door opened and Chris hesitantly stepped through. "Did you know?" I snarled, before chastising myself for it. I was angry at a lot of people, myself included, but not at him. Chris was…alright. Dennis and Carlos too. As much as I wanted to lash out, I couldn't bring myself to be angry at them.

"Your knuckles are bleeding."

"I'm fine."

"There's blood on the wall…"

"_Did you know?_"

Kid Win finally relented. "That Sophia's a bitch, well, yes. It's kinda obvious. That she'd done something like this, though, no. If I had, I'd have shot her myself. Or told the director."

"Right, and now she'll get a slap on the wrist like she always does."

Chris frowned. "Is that what happened at school?"

"That's what _always_ happens. She has looks, talents, connections. I don't. Director's just going to say that I don't have any evidence and send Sophia on her way. Like hell she's going to take my word over hers."

"You don't know the director."

I laughed mirthlessly. Like it even mattered. Piggot was someone in power. She's no different than all the others. "I can't work with Sophia and if she has to choose between a veteran Ward and me…"

Kid Win chuckled. "Like I said, you don't know the director. I'm not going to pretend that Piggot isn't a cold, ruthless hardass who will do anything to get the job done, but there's one thing she can't stand. She absolutely _hates_ parahumans who think they're better than normals because they happen to have powers. What Sophia did is basically just that. Trust me, her time with the Brockton Bay Wards is pretty much over. She was on thin ice already." I wanted to say something in response, but I couldn't find the words. He wouldn't understand anyway. "Big question is: What are _you_ going to do now?"

"I don't know? How high's the rig?"

He shifted nervously. "Right. What I meant was: Can we still convince you to stay?"

"Why would you even want me to? How am I supposed to fight supervillains if I can't even deal with a bully?"

"Because high school is a living hell compared to the real world." I shot Chris and angry glare. "What, you think you're the only one who's got problems? When I triggered, I wanted to be just like Hero, you know, the first tinker. Problem is, I suck at math, which is really bad when you're a tinker trying to calculate power output levels. I spent my first few months as a Ward trying to writing programs that do my number crunching for me. Even then, it's hard for me to build anything more complex than a laser rifle." I guess he did have problems. Great, and now I feel like a whiny, insensitive bitch. "Wait, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. It's just…none of us are perfect, okay. I know the PRT likes to tell people that we're infallible, shining supermen, but we're not. We're all screwed up in some way, but that doesn't stop us from trying."

I was very quiet for a while. "I want…I just want one thing in my life to go right, for once."

"Then let's work this out. Believe me, Sophia will get what's coming to her. If she isn't thrown in jail or reassigned to Antarctica then, well, let's just say that bullies have few friends when they need them most." I let that sink in for a moment. Chris seemed like he genuinely wanted to help me. Then again, so did Mr. Glady and he was just covering his own ass in the end. I wasn't feeling very trusting right now. Chris' phone rang. "It's the director. She wants to see you."

I nodded and followed.


End file.
